


Song of the Phoenix

by Lily_Harvord



Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: All Hands on Deck, F/F, F/M, M/M, Maybe smut...., Someday, characters come back in spurts, it's a resurrection fic ya'll, it's mostly about coriane though, there's a reason the title is what it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Harvord/pseuds/Lily_Harvord
Summary: It's just a resurrection fic ya'll (that's all I'm giving away), and that it's post Broken Throne. It's available on my tumblr, but I decided to try it out here too. Enjoy... it's story time.
Relationships: (and like a bunch of others that are going to give away parts of the story so I wont put them yet), Mare Barrow/Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

After being with Mare Barrow for over five years, Tiberius Calore the Seventh, had decided that not only did she enjoy making love during lightning storms, she seemed to channel that energy into the whole act. It usually left him breathless, and half dead the next morning though. She had never seemed too bothered by any of it, in fact, she always seemed to get up happier than when she went to bed.

Tonight had been no different from any of the previous nights, except for the fact that the storm had been loud and had lasted for over four hours, from the moment they had sat down to eat dinner until long after they had finished the act. Mare had slept through the worst of the storm it seemed, but Cal had tossed and turned through the whole thing, somehow not able to sleep. Eventually, he had gotten up, determined to simply sit in the small kitchen and watch the rain. Mare was still asleep when he left the bed, with her hair spilling across her pillow, and her arms tucked under it to support her head. His lips quirked up in the slightest of smiles at that, and he watched her to make sure she didn’t wake up as he dressed slowly and closed the door behind him.

Their small house was worth it, the upstairs consisting of only their bedroom, and a guest room, while everything else was on the ground floor. But the cost was made up with the garage that he spent almost all of his free time in, doing exactly what he loved. He’d refurbished over six vehicles since the end of the war. The first one had been an excuse to avoid everyone, but eventually a few later, it had become something that helped both him and Mare. Now, she came down and learned from his steady hands, and her nimble ones made it easy to reach into the tight cracks between belts and valves. She hated getting her hands dirty with the grease and oil, but she still came down to help him when she wasn’t off doing her own job. She had been offered a position as a trainer for the New Bloods, but she had laughed in Davidsons’ face and had promised him that she would keep herself out of trouble. Now, she worked in a small power plant, keeping the machines running, and the electricity in the small town pumping through the wires. He visited her when he wasn’t working in the mechanic’s shop, and she’d spend hours telling him about each and every little gear that broke and she had to fix. Sometime, she called him to fix them.

There was nothing miraculous about them anymore, and he and Mare had found that they liked it like that. There always were the odds and ends people who arrived in the little town with a broken down transporter, who gapped and stammered when the saw him covered in grease fixing their engine. And there was always the group who passed through the town and stared when he and Mare went to the little café in the center of town to have dinner together. He supposed that was earned though. It was strange to see legends sitting at the table across from you bickering about who’s turn it was to the laundry, and over which dessert would be better to have.

Sinking into one of the rickety kitchen chairs, Cal looked out at the dark landscape. A flash of lightning illuminated the acres of land that were behind their property. Once, he had imagined small children running around that space, all of them screaming and laughing. Mare had never mentioned that she wanted children though. He wasn’t about to push it on her, he knew how she felt. He knew about the nightmares that she sometimes had. About waking up screaming for her brother, or for people who were long gone. Those nights were always the hardest. She normally sat in the bay window of their bedroom and stared out at the horizon until the sun rose on those nights. He couldn’t imagine asking her to try and bring something so small and defenseless into their lives. Something that could so easily be killed or hurt. 

Maybe he should ask her about it though, it certainly wouldn’t hurt. He sighed as he set his head in his hand then. On second thought, maybe it was a better idea to eat. At least then, he could think about the whole idea of even bringing it up to her.

Could they even afford kids? He thought bitterly as he rose from the chair and made his way to the counter. After all, being an electrical technician or mechanic didn’t exactly leave them in a surplus of wealth. They made ends meet though, they had food in the cupboards, and were never hungry, something Mare was always trying to avoid. They had heat during the winter, and during the summer, they could fling all the windows of their home open to catch the breeze without worrying about thieves. They had what they needed, but if something, or rather, someone, got added into the mix, would that still work out the way it did?

Sighing, he reached for the light switch next to the doorway and flicked it up. The bulb overhead flickered for a moment, and then went out. Frowning at that, Cal squinted up in the dark at it, and saw that there was still a tiny pulse of light, but it was as if the bulb itself had been dimmed, like some of the energy was being sent elsewhere. He sighed again. Mare had probably been fooling around with the thing earlier, and had done something and not told him, typical.

He shuffled through the semidarkness then, which was broken only by the repeated flashes of lighting. The storm must have been directly overhead by this point, he thought as he opened the cupboard and pulled out a mug. He filled it with water, and then turned to open another cupboard to get some of the tea out. As he did though, his eye caught movement out the window. Squinting through the dark and the sheets of rain, he could just barely make out what looked like a stumbling figure, wrapped in a blanket.

“What…” he began to ask himself as the figure slowly came closer, stumbling through the edge of the trees and into the open view of their backyard. The wind and rain threw them back and forth and he watched hesitantly for a few seconds wondering if his tired mind was playing tricks on him. A few seconds later though, they tripped in the open space and collapsed into the mud. 

Cursing softly, Cal dropped the mug without thinking and sprinted for the door that attached the kitchen to the back porch. The mug shattered on the ground as he sprinted out into the rain.

He was soaked in seconds, and his bare feet were freezing by the time he got to the huddled figure on the ground. He crouched down over them and then shouted over the crack of thunder, “What the hell do you think you’re doing out in the middle of a storm like this?”

Whoever it was, was a young woman, who couldn’t have been any older than him. She mumbled something to her pale hands which were squished into the mud. He pulled her to her feet, the coarse fabric of the cloak she was wearing rubbing against his hands. She shivered, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before bringing her toward the house. When he glanced up, he saw Mare standing on the porch with his jacket on while she shielded her eyes from the rain. Seeing that he was half carrying someone toward the house, she opened the porch door and hurried inside. The light in the kitchen didn’t come on though.

As he reached the top of the porch steps with the young woman, he paused outside and demanded again, “What are you doing out in the middle of the storm like this?”

She shivered and mumbled something incoherent. Shaking his head at that, Cal turned her to face him and asked, “Who are you? How did you find your way out here?”

Slowly, as if in a daze, the woman lifted her head. She brought delicate fingers up and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. Her irises were pale brown, like dirt that was on its way to drying after the rain. She opened her mouth to speak, but froze as she took him in. Her eyes widened and her jaw slowly went slack, just barely though, enough to make her thin lips open in a startled expression. Those eyes widened and she closed and opened her mouth in surprise before whispering, “Tibe?”

Shaking his head in surprise, Cal scrunched up his brows and replied, “That’s not… how did you… how did my father tell you… my father’s dead.”

The woman’s eyes widened even further and she blinked for a heartbeat before replying softly, “Father,” her voice broke, and he saw her eyes water as she choked, “Cal?”

Frowning, he pulled away a little more, shocked that she knew who he was. Maybe she was one of the people who lived in town and she had seen him around. He doubted it though, this town was tiny, and everyone who lived here knew everyone. He would have seen her before.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mare’s voice rose above the pounding of the rain on the roof. She stood in the doorway, holding almost all of the towels they owned in her arms. “Bring her inside!” Mare shouted as she held the door open. 

Shaking himself out, Cal grabbed the woman’s arm and brought her inside. She wouldn’t stop looking at him with that look though, like she was looking at him in an entirely different light. He guided her into the small living room they had, and slowly helped her to sit on the couch. She gripped the edges of her soaking wet blanket tightly in her hands and watched him as he backed away and grabbed from the pile of towels Mare had thrown on the ground. Upstairs, he could hear the water running. Mare must have drawn a bath.

He dared a quick glance at the woman on the couch, and caught her staring at him again. She was looking him up and down, a curious sort of look on her face. He looked away quickly again, unsure what to think of feel, he knew deep down, knew what this was, knew who she was, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to really acknowledge it. It just wasn’t physically possible. Yet, here she was.

She looked up at him, and then whispered, “Cal…”

He pulled away again though, and shaking his head he said, “You can dry off, I’ll… go get you some tea.”

He hurried away, his heart in his throat. He kept shaking his head, thinking that he was just seeing things. But there was no mistaking it, the shape of her eyes, he had seen that same eye shape every morning when he looked up in the mirror. Had seen it in countless portraits too. 

As he passed into the kitchen, he shivered, and had to lean against the counter to think. His head was spinning, and he wondered if it was because his heart was racing so fast that he couldn’t breathe. This whole thing was impossible, it was a trick of the light. He was tired, it was completely logical that he was just… dreaming. Maybe he had fallen asleep, and he was going to wake up any second.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to make himself wake up, tried to make himself snap out of this. Shaking his head rapidly, he murmured, “Just wake up, just wake up.”

He felt a soft hand on his lower back and jumped, his head snapping around as his hand came up to grab the hand that had touched him. Mare watched him in surprise and then whispered, “Cal… what’s wrong?”

Dropping her hand quickly, he grabbed the tea kettle, and hurried to the sink to fill it with water. He could still feel Mare’s eyes on his back though, and he looked out the window at the backyard, and the pounding rain. At least the lightning had stopped though.

“Cal,” Mare choked as she quickly turned the faucet off, and pulled the overflowing kettle out of his hands before setting it in the sink. Taking his hands in her own, she asked, “What is wrong? What is going on? Why are you acting like this?”

He glanced beyond her at the doorway and then said, “I need to wake up.”

Rolling her eyes at his comment, Mare reached up and slapped his cheek a few times, not enough to hurt, but enough to jar him. Stepping back, she quirked her brow and said, “Are you awake now? Because guess what, we have a random woman sitting in our living room, alone, because you left her there.”

“She’s,” he paused and then looked back at the doorway for a moment before shaking his head quickly, unable to continue. Mare reached up and cupping his cheek gently she asked, “She’s what? Do you know her?”

“I, I think so, I’m not sure though.” Cal murmured as he broke free from Mare’s grip. Glancing at the kettle he whispered softly, “Can you make some tea, I’m going to… go talk to her. Ask her where she’s from and how she got here.”

Nodding in understanding, Mare turned to the stove and began setting up to make tea. Cal watched her for another heartbeat for heading out into the living room again. The woman was slowly toweling off on the couch. Her hair hung in limp brown strings around her head. She still had the blanket wrapped around her body though. He approached her slowly and then said, “Mare’s making some tea right now, and I think she drew you a bath upstairs. If you want I can take you up there and get you some dry clothes to wear.”

The woman looked up at him, her eyes soft as she tilted her head to the side slightly. Suddenly her expression was pained and she whispered, “you look just like him,” rising from the couch, she pulled the blanket tightly around her and then reached out to him, “but you are taller, Sara promised you would be.”

Cal pulled back quickly from her hand and watched her in terror. She knew Sara, the evidence was mounting against reality and for a moment, he really did think he was dreaming. Shaking his head at her words, he said, “Sara, you know Sara Skonos?”

The woman looked physically wounded by his words, and her lips drew into a tight line as she said, “Of course I knew Sara, she is…was my best friend.” The correction took her a little bit to figure out, but it had been made all the same. Swallowing past the knife in his throat, Cal glanced away and then whispered to himself, “I need to wake up.”

“Then I do as well,” The woman whispered, her eyes watering as he pulled further away from her. Shaking her head softly she sank down onto the couch again and whispered, “I never, I never thought that Tibe would, that he would keep me from you, keep who I am-“

“I know who you are,” Cal wheezed, because at this point his throat was filled with lumps the size of his fist. He could barely breathe around them and the fist that was gripping his chest in a vice. She watched him for another second, before whispering, “why are you so afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid, I’ve seen plenty of messed up shit in my life to not be afraid of you, but you’re… you’re dead, you died almost twenty-four years ago.”

Her eyes widened, and she glanced out the window at the storm, her eyes watering as she whispered, “I don’t remember that day, I don’t remember any of it.”

Breathing heavily around the band that was wrapping tighter and tighter around his chest, Cal choked, “You, you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, couldn’t bear to tell her the truth of that day. All he could muster was, “You died, you died and left us.”

Behind him, he heard something shatter on tile. Flipping around he saw Mare standing in the doorway to the kitchen, the mug of tea she had made was shattered on the floor and the liquid had exploded everywhere as she took both of them in.

“Forgotten gods,” Mare croaked as she walked to Cal, stepping over the tea stain. She grabbed his arm and then whispered, “I know who you are… I’ve seen your picture.”

The woman looked at the two of them and then whispered, “Where is your father?”

“Dead,” Cal replied as he turned his head away. How was this possible, how was any of this possible? She was dead, and had been dead for his entire life, how could she possibly be back now?

“Coriane,” Mare whispered the name like it had a power stronger than what pulsed through her veins, and in the moment it did, “Coriane Jacos, the Singer Queen.”

She flinched at the title and then looked away at the fabric of the couch as she whispered, “That is what they called me, yes.”

Mare’s grip increased on Cal’s arm as her eyes widened and she gasped, “But you’re dead, you’ve been dead-“

“I’m well aware of what I have been for the past twenty-four years.” Coriane whispered, but that whisper carried the power of a queen behind it. Mare flinched at the biting tone, it had been so long since she had heard something like it. Looking them both over again, Coriane whispered, “And who are you exactly.”

“Mare Barrow,” Mare’s voice was soft, but panicked as she tugged Cal toward the kitchen and whispered, “we need to talk, we need to talk right now.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Cal replied as he turned and pushed Mare into the kitchen and closed the door behind them. Mare paced at the counter and then flipping around on Cal, the lightbulb overhead flickered and buzzed as Mare’s worry manifested as power, as she hissed, “Your dead mother is sitting in our living room looking very much alive!”

“I am well aware!” Cal reply was in the same tone but both of their voices rose in magnitude as their panic fed each other’s. Gesturing behind himself in surprise Cal said, “I didn’t exactly realize that until I looked dead at her though! Now you know why I was having an anxiety attack in here before you came in.”

Shaking her head Mare replied, “It’s not possible, she should be almost…fifty years old! She looks like she’s the same age as Gisa!”

“I mean that is how old she was when she-“ Cal couldn’t get the words out again, and shaking his head he said, “This could be a scam, she could be playing a part and is leading someone to us right now.”

“That seems a little extreme, even for this entire… situation.” Mare replied, her panic subsiding as she sat down at the kitchen table. She watched Cal for a heartbeat before looking at the door out of the kitchen. “We should… let her take a bath, and settle. I’ll get her set up while you… call Davidson, or Farley… or whoever the hell is going to pick up at this time in the morning.”

Cal nodded, and Mare swallowed before she stood up. She glanced at the puddle of tea on the floor by the door and then said, “We also might need to buy more mugs…we broke two of them this morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note for my writing:  
> (/Character/) = POV for the chapter  
> (///////) = a scene jump or a time jump  
> Enjoy... it's story time (((:

(/Mare/)

Cal simply didn’t move from the couch for a few hours. Above us, his mother moved around the room, the old floorboards announcing every step she took. We hadn’t spoken about it, as if ignoring her might actually make her disappear again. She continued to walk around in the guest room though, announcing her presence with every step.

Slowly I turned my ring over on my finger, twisting the simple band and stone over and over again, absentmindedly wondering what this all could mean. Was she a one-time occurrence, or were there going to be others?

“Did you managed to contact Dane?” I asked softly, as I began pacing, counting the individual steps slowly. Cal nodded and replied, “He and Carmadon are in the west though seeing to some problems with the outposts there. He told me to get in touch with the new Premier.”

“Talking to Rori is like speaking to a brick wall.” I replied stiffly, before pausing when I hear the stairs creak slowly. Cal stood up quickly, and we both looked to the top of the stairs to see his mother frozen, looking down at us. Her eyes searched the space between us, as if she was looking for the connection that held us together. On an impulse I didn’t even know I still had, I slowly tucked my left hand behind my back. Cal spotted the movement, but didn’t comment on it, instead, he looked up at his mother and offered a weak smile before saying, “I’m glad Mare had something that could fit you.”

She nodded, and continued down the stairs, her eyes on the shoes she wore that I had dug out of my closet. She paused at the bottom, and balanced her hand on the banister before asking, “Where exactly are we… I don’t recognize this country side.”

I glanced at Cal for a fraction of a second, trying to gauge his reaction. He reached up and scratched at the back of his neck softly before reply, “Probably because we’re not in Norta.”

She raised her brow slowly, and paced toward the two of us, before stopping a few steps away. She looked her son over before saying softly, “And why are we not in Norta?”

Cal grimaced before saying, “A lot has changed… over the past… five years.”

“And those changes constitute you being here and not in Norta?” She asks stubbornly, and I have to stifle a laugh. Only a mother could ask questions with that tone. Even Cal is slightly put out by it, because he blushed to the tips of his ears and says, “It’s a very long story.”

She huffs and shuffles past us before sinking onto the couch with the grace only a Silver can have. She crossed her ankles delicately, and sets her hands in her lap. She looked like a lady about to hold court in our living room, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I kept my left hand behind my back and then slowly reached my other hand back to remove my engagement ring. Something told me that if she saw that ring she might faint.

Eyeing me she says, “I have a feeling we have a long time ahead of us, I would love to hear this story.”

Cal hesitates for a second before slowly sinking down onto the cushion next to her. She frowns at him for a heartbeat before glancing at me and asking, “And where do you fit in?”

I freeze in surprise, unsure of how to respond. I’d already removed my engagement ring, and I still wasn’t sure how she was going to react if I said anything. In the end, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my pants and say, “I’m… I’m a friend. Cal and I have been friends since the war.”

I glance at him, warning him with my eyes to keep his mouth shut. It’s already open and he looks like he’s about to tear into me about lying, but he closes it quickly, sensing that I will have to tell him later. Coriane watches me for a few moments before saying, “And you are living here…together… after a war?”

I shrugged and then gestured around, “It was the cheapest place.” Which isn’t a lie, it had been the cheapest place. But we hadn’t moved into it together for a few years. I had stayed in Montfort for a long time, and he had stayed in Norta. For a while he had run a small home for boys, silver, red, new blood, whoever showed up on the door step. The orphans of the war had liked him simply because he put a roof over their head and gave them food. I’d visited only once, on an urging from Julian to come back to Norta to see the massive changes taking place. I had almost not recognized him.

“Mare and I find that it’s been best to live with someone, it helps deal with the problems that arise sometimes.” Cal offers as well, his eyes searching mine, trying to make sure he has said the right thing. I nod quickly, before sinking down into one of the small chairs we had, letting the leather consume me as I did so.  
His mother eyes the two of us, before saying, “Very well. Let’s hear this story then.”

(//////)

It’s hard to tell a story, when you’re not sure which parts to tell and which one not to mention at all. In the end, we touch on a majority of the small details, and give her the general overview. She sits quietly through all of it, her eyes narrowing every so often. In the end though, she looks down at her hands, and plays with the loose fabric of the sweater I had given her. She keeps her eyes down as she says, “All this, all this because of me.”

“The monarchy was already weak,” I said carefully, meeting Cal’s eye carefully. He nods softly, agreeing with me. His mother isn’t so quick to agree. “I pried it open though,” she reaches up to cradle her head in her hand and murmurs, “Your father and I gave them an excuse to challenge the power structure. I opened the door to Elara’s fury.”

“Elara was getting the throne whether you married my father or not,” Cal said as he rose from the couch. The morning sunlight cuts through the window, and burns a ring of light around him. He breaks the spell though, and makes his way to the kitchen to grab the tea that is sitting on the counter. It’s probably ice cold by now.

His mother watches him too, obviously trying to fit whatever little memories she had of him into the man before her. She purses her lips eventually though and says, “And now you’re in Montfort, because it’s safest?”

“I also happen to like it,” Cal calls from the kitchen, and I nod quickly. Living here allowed us to be close to our family’s, without the pressure of them knocking on our door every morning to ask if we were getting married soon. We had both needed the space from Ascendant too.

He returns from the kitchen, carrying a two mugs of tea. He hands it to me, and I thank him softly, as I inhale the warm mist from the top. He must have warmed both mugs on his way out, because his mother’s also steams as if we had made the tea only minutes ago. She takes it from him and stares down at the murky liquid without speaking for a long time. In those long moments, Cal looks at me, and I can see the conflict deep within his irises. We had left out a few crucial details, namely our relationship, and the fact that I had played a very large role in the snowball that became the fall of Norta. Still, it was better if we left that for when she was more settled into the world that we had built from the ashes of the former.

“I never wanted you to be king,” she eventually says, drawing both of our attentions. She sits a little straighter as if she can sense our eyes, because she doesn’t look up from her tea. “I never wanted you to be a soldier, more than anything, I just wanted to be ordinary, I wanted to be able to simply exist in the world. I failed quite a few people chasing those dreams.” Sighing, she rubs her thumb up and down the side of the mug, her movements delicate, like a bird’s. She was far smaller than I imagined. Although she stood a few inches taller than me, she was petite and thin. I could see why Elara had preyed on her.

She sets the mug aside, and then reaches out to softly take Cal’s hand in her own. She grips his fingers in a vice and then whispers, “I failed you, above all I failed you.”

He blinks in surprise, but I can see the glistening of tears in his eyes. The only memory he had of his mother before this had been her diary, and that little book had meant the world to him for the longest time. To hear from his mother now, it was a moment that I knew was overpowering, no matter how well he tried to hide it.

Standing from my chair, I leave the two of them to it. Whatever had to be said, could be said without me there. I find my solace in the kitchen, and end up standing in front of the window, looking out at the rain covered grass. The phone rings on the wall, and I jump in surprise at the sound, before leaping for it.

The other end if quiet for a moment, until I hear a burst of noise and then the sound of a little girl’s shriek. The receiver explodes with the sound of Farley’s voice then, stating very clearly that if Clara screams one more time, then Farley will actually give her something to scream about. Clara falls silent at that, and my friend sighs in relief before asking, “Mare?”

“I’m here.” My reply is laced with a smile as I sink into the kitchen table with the phone. The cord pulls on it, but I ignore the tug. There is the noise of Farley moving through space on the other side before she says, “Rori’s office contacted me, they got your message. They’re ordering you and Cal to Ascendant now, and they want you to bring her too.”

“Did they find something out?” I ask quickly, and Farley is quiet for a few moments on the other end before reply, “They wouldn’t tell me. I have high clearance, but apparently not high enough for this thing.”

“This thing?” I ask hesitantly, wondering if there was something going on that neither Cal nor I was completely prepared for. “Farley you must have heard something.”  
She is quiet again, and when she finally speaks again, her voice is almost a whisper, “There are others Mare, I heard them mention to open another file. There is more than just his mother.”

My blood runs cold, and above my head, the lightbulb flickers softly. Leaning away from the receiver, I can see into the living room. Cal is still talking softly with his mother, and for a moment, I wonder if I should take him away from that so that he can hear what Farley has to say. She takes the opportunity from me though, when she says, “I have to go, Clara is making a fuss again. Get up here as soon as you can, bring his mother. They’ll let you speak with Rori as soon as you get here.”

I heard her say something to Clara before hanging up. I rose slowly from the table and returned to the living room, my mug of tea forgotten. I watched them for a few moments, my stomach clenching in worry. Rori was not exactly one to go easy on someone simply because the situation asked it of her. She had spent over a year trying to draft me and Cal back into the whole thing. Whether it was demanding or trying to bribe us back to Ascendant, she had seemed desperate to have us around. Farley had said bitterly that she was trying to build up a legion of people that would scare others off. I didn’t exactly think of myself a particularly terrifying person anymore though. In fact, whatever edge I had during the war, I thought I had lost. Of course, there were times where it popped up, but I had no need for the little lightning girl to stand in front. I spent all of my time as Mare Barrow, the girl from the Stilts, with a rotten streak of luck.

Cal looked up after noticing me standing in the doorway, and asked, “Was that Farley on the phone?”

I nodded carefully, before saying, “Our presence is requested in Ascendant.”

His eyes darkened, but he nodded none the less. “I’m guessing Dane contacted Rori about the whole thing.” He rises from the couch, his eyes taking on a faraway look, as he starts to think about the situation before us. His mother watched him for a few seconds, before looking at me and asking, “Who is Rori?”

“Rori Journ is the current Premier of Montfort.” I supplied, but my words make her lips draw into a tight line. Whether or not she’s not happy with me speaking or the words I said, is unclear. Cal nods softly, confirming my words, before saying, “I assume she wants to know about you,” his eyes glance to his mother, and she looks up in surprise. Shaking her head quickly she breathes, “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“That is sort of off the table at this moment. You’re not the only one that has come back.” I said as I leaned against the doorway, trying to understand the woman in front of me. She was not what I thought. I had expected a little bit more of a spine, not someone who so easily bent over. There was no way Cal got his stubborn streak from his father alone. That man had about zero spine.

Crossing the room to me, Cal tilts his head slightly to whisper to me, “Call your parents and tell them that we’re coming and we might need a place to stay for a little bit.” I nodded, my fingers grazing his wrist as I replied, “Farley sounded nervous about the whole thing, I think Rori might know more than she lets on.”

Nodding, he turns on his heel and makes his way to the stairs. Coriane watches him before turning to me. I give her a small, quick smile before saying, “Less than twenty-four hours here and you’re already going to see more than I did in seventeen years.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, and she doesn’t reply to my lame attempt at a joke. I draw the tip of my tongue along my lower lip before saying, “I’ll find you some more things to wear, and we’ll probably leave within the hour.”

I hurry up the stairs after Cal then, trying to escape the awkward silence that settles between me and the former queen of Norta. The steps creaking in the silence, cutting it to ribbons as I practically sprint up them. At the top, I can see the door to our bedroom open, and I slip inside before softly closing the door. Cal looks up from the bed where he has tossed a bag. I watch him for a moment before he asks, “Why did you hide the ring?”

“I’m not entirely sure what she is going to think. Also, let’s just imagine what would happen if we sprang that on her, along with the fact that your father married Elara, the woman who murdered her, and then smile and say, but guess what? We’re engaged! I’m sure that would go over fantastic.”

“It would be better than lying.” Cal grumbles as he steps into the closet and returns with his shirts folded over his arm. I roll my eyes with a sigh before sinking onto the edge of the bed. Crossing my arms, I stared down at the carpet before whispering, “It’s not lying.”

“We don’t know how she would react–“

“Hence why I hid the ring,” I replied stiffly, and earned a sigh from him. He set the shirts on the bed, and slowly sank down into a crouch in front of me. He set his hands on my knees and then whispered, “Shouldn’t we give her the benefit of the doubt?”

“Would you tell your father… if he was the one down there, would you tell him we were engaged?” I ask softly, and I see him wince for a moment before saying, “I understand.”

Reaching out, I cupped his cheek and murmured, “We’ll tell her eventually, when we know more about her, and how she thinks.”

He frowns in uncertainty at my words but nods. He rises quickly, and I do it with him, slipping my arms around his middle. Slowly, I lay my head on his chest, and closing my eyes inhale the scent that clings to his sweater. Pine, and a hint of spice from the tea we had made.

I open my eyes again and look down at the hem of the sweater that is faded and torn in one spot. Reaching out, I slide my fingers into his, feeling the callous there. I trace a particularly rough spot and then whisper, “My parents will ask all kinds of questions. They’ll want to know when we’re planning on finally getting married. I’ll go into the apartment first if you want to take your mother and tell everyone to keep the engagement and everything under wraps.”

“It’s going to bite us in the ass,” he breathes, before turning his head to rest his chin on my hair. I can feel the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes softly, and I squeeze his hand before replying, “It’ll only be for a little bit, just… until we know what she thinks of everything.”

He grunts his understanding, and I close my eyes again before whispering, “I should pack and get her some things to wear.”

I pull away for him slowly, leaving the little bubble of warmth that he creates around him by simply existing. I pause outside of the closet though, feeling the begins of the ache in my chest that comes with the thoughts at the back of my mind. The floor creaks as Cal approaches me from behind. Resting his hands on my hips, he presses a soft kiss on my neck and whispers, “If she’s not the only one, then more are coming.”

I grab the inside of my cheek with my teeth and gnaw at it, trying not to think about what he is getting at. His hands keep me in place though as he continues softly, “He may come back, and if he finds out that you held onto the guilt over what happened at Corros all these years he’ll be furious with you.”

“I know,” I croak, even if saying the words isn’t enough. It had never been enough for me to just say them. I had never been able to truly move past what I had done at Corros, who I had dragged to their deaths. I sometimes felt like my heart was going to collapse in on itself when I thought about the stone on Tuck with my brother’s name on it. Right now was no exception. “When he sees what he lost, what I made him lose… he’ll hate me.”

“What happened in that moment was not your fault,” Cal warns me again, and he wraps his arms around me tightly, as if he might squeeze me back into one piece if he squeezes just tight enough. I set my hand on his forearm, feeling the scars there from the engines that had cut him, and the knives, and even my own lightning. He had a few little branching scars on his other arm, curtesy of me and my nightmares. I had told him to remove them more times than I can count, but he always waves it off, saying it didn’t matter, that they matched mine, and he didn’t mind that.

“No one could have predicted that he would have appeared right then and there, no one saw it coming.” Cal murmurs against the skin of my neck as he shifts one of his arms so that it is like a belt from my hip to my shoulder. If I collapse forward like I have before, he’ll be able to hold me up and cradle me to his chest.

“I shouldn’t have stopped,” I whispered, my lungs going icy cold when I remembered the prison courtyard and how I had turned around, hell bent on burning Elara to the ground.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Cal whispers the words again. It had become somewhat of a motto that he told me in these moments, when the guilt became too much for me to handle. He nuzzled into my neck and whispered again, “It wasn’t your fault love, he chose to go back for you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, but even behind my closed eyelids, I can see still see him clearly. His shoulders, and the slight jerk in them from Ptolemus’s needle slamming into his chest. It’s worse now than before too, because of Samson’s meddling. I can see it from every angle, in any speed. Sometimes, it’s how I actually remember it, quick, followed by the blinding light of my lightning slamming down. Other times, it’s slow, and I can see every second it takes his knees to hit the ground. Now, is one of those times.

Grabbing onto Cal’s arm, I let him take my weight, and grip him like a life line. He’ll hold me through the storm, and reel me back when the winds pass. He’s made an art of it now. His lips are soft against my neck and whispers, “I’m here, you’re safe here. It’s just us.”

He has to do that sometimes, has to remind me where I am, and when I am. The nightmares and the flashbacks can be bad enough at times, and this is the only thing that works.  
Eventually, the moment passes, and when I open my eyes, I can see the carpet of the closet in clear focus, and can feel his chest rising and falling out of time with mine. I listen to his breathing, counting the seconds it takes him to inhale and exhale, and then match it with my own. It’s a long process, but today is apparently going to be a good day because it only takes three tries to calm myself.

I squeeze his wrist softly, letting him know that I’m okay and can take my own weight again. He shifts his grip back to where it had started on my hips, and presses another kiss to my neck whispering, “I’m sorry, I brought that on.”

“I was already heading for it.” I murmured as I took another deep inhale. He nods, letting me finish the recovery on my own, and then slips away asking if I want him to help me grab things. I nod my affirmation, and then verbalize it before stepping into the closet. At the back is a box with Clara’s birthday present for the year. I grab that first and set it outside of the closet. Something told me we would be staying in Ascendent for a while, and would need to have that for when Clara’s birthday actually rolled around.

I gathered a few more outfits, and tossed them onto the bed, not bothering to keep them in neat stack like Cal was trying to do. I heard him laugh as I buried his piles underneath mine, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw him folding my clothes as well. I bent down to grab a few pairs of boots, only to pause, and look over my shoulder and say, “Cal."

He looks up from folding one of his shirts, and I feel the boots slide out my hands as I say, “Our family members aren’t the only people that will come back.”

He raises a brow, and I whisper, “Elara, Samson… Maven…people we killed, people who want us dead.”

His face pales, and he slowly sets the shirt down. He stares at the quilt on out bed for a moment, his face pinched in a way that I haven’t seen in a while. Slowly he lifts his head and grabs another shirt before saying, “I suppose that’s why we’re being summoned back immediately.”

“If they aren’t already back,” I murmur, thinking about icy eyes, and cold fingers combing through my memories. I force thoughts of cold skin down, and warm kisses that I thought I missed.

Shaking myself out, I pick up the boots again. Steeling myself, I set them on the bed and then say, “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.”

He nods, but I can see the gears in his head turning at rapid fire. He could be thinking about any number of people who have tried to kill us in the past, and what would happen if they got their hands on us again. Eventually, he stops what he is doing, and pulling me close, he whispers in my ear, “I told you when we were younger that I would never let them hurt you again. I couldn’t protect you then. I don’t know if I can protect you now either.”

I tense in surprise at his admission, before looking up at him and whispering, “We’re going to protect each other this time around. There are no secrets or ulterior motives to keep us apart now.”

He nods, and then hugs me close again, whispering, “I couldn’t lose you then, and I can’t lose you now.”

Wrapping my arms around his middle, I inhale the scent of him again, remembering when he had once smelled like blood and fire. Underneath everything, I know that person is still there, just like the fractured Little Lightning Girl still exists beneath Mare Barrow. If our demons returned to haunt us, would we have to become those people again? I wasn’t sure I would be able to go back there and return again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild baby Clara appears? *pokémon battle music starts playing*

(/Mare/) 

Taking the train into Ascendant is probably one of the most cumbersome experiences that we have to do in Monfort. Not only is there a train change at one point, but the switch is normally tight for me and Cal, simply because the only train that we can catch from our town has only one time that it leaves, and only leaves us with a few minutes to cross three platforms in Durango before the three-hour train ride to Ascendant. The whole trip normally takes a full day, and if you miss the train in Durango, you have to wait for the next train to Ascendant which is normally very late at night. Arriving in the early hours of the morning though, is not enjoyable, especially when I have to wake up my parents to let us into their town house.

The whole trip is complicated because of us dragging Cal’s mother along. She tries her best, and I have to give it to her that she is trying. She runs alongside us, dragging the bag I gave her. She runs out of breath before we even make it across one platform, but she manages to keep up. We almost miss the train, only for Cal to leap on and pull us on behind him. After managing to find a small cabin to ourselves, we had settled down. Outside of the window, the countryside passes us by, slowly becoming rockier with each passing moment. Soon, the train will begin the climb up into the mountain.

Next to me, Cal sleeps with his head back and his mouth open slightly. Like always, he can barely stay awake on this train. He shifts slightly in his dreams, and slowly slides toward me. I hold my hand out to stop his progress, and he grunts an apology for almost crushing me before shifting back to his original position. I simply turn the page of my book in response, and glance at his mother who has her face glued to the glass window, in a way that is both childish and lady like at the same time. I didn’t even realize such a combination was possible. With her doe like eyes, wide in awe at the land we travel through, she certainly looks like a child. And yet, she sits with her shoulders almost completely straight, her ankles crossed, as I had been taught to do years ago.

When she senses my eyes, she looks across the cabin to me, and asks, “You have lived out here for a long time I presume?”

“Only for a little while.” I turn to the next page and look back down at my book. She tilts her head to the side before asking, “And you lived in… Ascendant first?”

“I lived there for a few years too. And before that I lived with my family in Norta.” I volunteer the information casually as I prop my feet up on the seat across from me, which happens to be next to her. She looks at my boots for a moment, curiosity etching through her features before she says, “Right, you lived in the Stilts. You and Cal told me as much.”

Nodding, I glanced up from my book, trying to figure out what she was trying to get at by asking me these questions. Movement outside of the cabin catches my eye though, and I look through the glass door to see a few soldiers pass us. They wear the interlocking rings of Montfort on their uniforms, and carry heavy weaponry with them. Both of them are Silver though, even if they don’t look the part. Cal’s mother makes a soft strangled noise at the sight before sliding to the edge of her seat to watch them as they continue down the hallway. Turning my eyes back to her, I watch her as she narrows her eyes.

“Is that normal?” She asks eventually, and I shrug before replying, “Normally there’s only one guard on the train. They must have had a scare recently. Either the Raiders are getting worse or the Cygnets must be acting up again.”

“Raiders?” She asks breathless, and I look back down at my book with a shrug. Turning the page, I reply, “A group of Silvers who didn’t exactly like what happened when Monfort’s monarchy tumbled. They live in the wastelands outside of Ascendant and every so often they like to make their presence known.”

“And the Cygnets, they are still in control of the Lakelands?”

“Yes, Queen Cenra has been a particular pain in our asses since she lost Norta to us.” I look up again, and see her pursing her lips. She tilts her head to the side before saying, “I remember Cenra, back when… Tiberias the Fifth was on the throne. She was about my age when she became queen.”

I raised my brow suddenly very curious about this woman. Cal had never let me read her diary, citing it as incredibly private and something for him. So I had shrugged and decided that I would just never know about her. But she was here now, which meant any questions I had, I could get answers. “You were pretty young when you became queen too,” I offered up the subject hesitantly, and I saw her eyes burn for a moment at the mention of the past. They soften quickly though, and she glances away before saying, “Tibe and I were young, so very young. And stupid.”

“How so?” I drop my feet back to the floor, and close my book. She blinks in surprise at my undivided attention, before saying, “he should have married Elara Merandus from the beginning. She was the clear choice, but he chose to marry me instead. And as you have seen, it caused quite a few problems.”

“I wouldn’t say that you were the sole cause of that, Elara was going to get the throne anyway, like we said before.” I shrugged, and leaned back in my seat. Outside, the guards pass again, one of them gives me a smile and dips his head in respect before continuing. I raise my hand in response to the gesture, before turning back to her and saying, “And what was so stupid about marrying the man you loved?”

“Marrying for love in court is not exactly… proper.”

I snort, remembering all the pomp and circumstance that had followed Evangeline and Cal’s betrothal, and how hard her parents had pushed for it even after it was obvious that there would be no country for them to rule. She puckers her lips at the sound I make, and then says, “We were doomed from the start, and I… made matters harder by not coming from a very prosperous family. My father was not the best man, and my brother spent a majority of his time either courting Sara Skonos or trying to fix the damage my father did.”

I have to laugh at the picture she paints of Julian, it certainly sounds like the man I had come to know. She raises her brow in surprise at my reaction, and I hear Cal grunt and roll to the side to try and ignore the sound I made. I swallow the rest of my laugh and drop my voice back down to be quieter. “Sorry, but that sounds exactly like Julian.”  
“So you know my brother.”

“He was my teacher at court, when I was there that is.” I pick at a thread in the knee of my pants and then whisper, “And he had been a very good friend the past few years. When Cal went on his little tangent about being king again, he kept him safe, and tried his best to keep him on the right path.”

She smiles softly, and it actually reaches her eyes when she says, “He doted over Cal. He loved him like he was his own son.”

I glance at the subject of her musing, before smiling softly and saying, “I’m not surprised.”

We sit in silence then, and finally it is not as tense. She does seem like a nice woman, quiet, and obviously very insecure about her position in everything, but nice. She looks back out the window as the gears beneath us change and the train begins to pick up speed as we begin to make our way up hill. It would only be another hour or two until we reached the platform at the top of the mountain. From there, we would need to take a transport to my parents’ town house, unless they came to get us themselves. I doubted it though. My father hated riding in transports, they reminded him far too much of the vehicles that would take him and the other soldiers out to the trenches of the Choke. My mother hated driving as well, and so they made sure to move to a place where they only had to walk everywhere. Bree might come get us, or Tramy if he was not too busy. Gisa was working though, and staying with the new girl in her life. I had heard all about it over the phone a few weeks ago. Apparently she was deeply in love, and didn’t seen this relationship ending anytime soon. She had said the same thing about the last one though.

When I go back to reading my book, I hit a word that I don’t know. Sighing, I nudge Cal with my knee, making him jerk awake. He sighs when he sees that nothing is wrong, and slowly leans his head back again before asking, “What?”

“I need to know what a word means.”

“Which one?” He murmurs as he cracks his eyes open and leans forward to look at the book with me. I hold it up for him and point to it before saying, “zealous.”

He harrumphs softly, and then says, “think about being incredibly willing to pursue some goal. If you need an image of it, my grandmother is the perfect example.”  
I laugh at his description and he smiles at me. His mother looks over in surprise before crying, “Anabel? She’s alive?”

“Yes, and she’s an absolute-“ I freeze when I see his mother’s bright smile. Forgotten gods, did this woman actually like Anabel Leralorn? When I glance at Cal, he shrugs but doesn’t say anything. His mother looks between us in confusion and then says softly, “Unless, your relationship with her is not good?”

“It’s complicated.” I say, before meeting Cal’s eye again. He nods in affirmation, before standing suddenly and stretching. I watch him, trying to keep my eyes from roaming. Even after being engaged for as long as we had, I was overly possessive. I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly, and normally, we were a little bolder in these cabins, but with his mother here, and the secret we were keeping, that was out of the question.

His mother doesn’t seem ready to drop the topic though, and says, “She loved you though, more than Julian.”

I snorted at that description and then said, “Oh she definitely favored him, doesn’t mean she wasn’t a pain.”

“She and Mare do not get along.” Cal offers as he begins to pace the cabin, stretching his legs. He caught my eye watching him, and gives me a roughish smirk before reaching into the space above our heads for something out of his bag. His shirt lifted only slightly, and I rolled my eyes before looking away. If he thought he was being sly, then he had a lot more work to do in that category. Of course, if he was playing these games then he was looking for something from me. No doubt he thought he was going to be getting what he wanted when we arrived in Ascendant.

Smiling to myself, I crossed my legs and went back to reading my book, applying my new word. He sat back down in a huff when he saw that his advances were going nowhere. When I looked up, I saw his mother ignoring both of us and looking out the window again at the mountains that were starting to rise up on either side of us.

In her distraction, I slapped Cal’s leg, hard enough to admonish him for his earlier actions, but soft enough to not draw his mother’s attention. He chuckled to himself, and then leaned his head back to sleep again.  
  
(//////)

Ascendant still smelled like winter, even though it was approaching the middle of spring, when we stepped off the platform. There was not an inch of snow in sight, and the platform was vastly more crowded than our own had been. Looking up at the top of the hill, I could see the massive government building where the representatives met, and on the other side of the hills, I could see the observatory. It was only mid-afternoon, but it was still chilly, even with the sun overhead.

I stepped off the train and onto the platform, sighing as I turned and took my bag from Cal. He helped his mother down onto the platform, since she was busy looking around at everything with wide eyes. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side while Cal jumped off the train and followed us with his bag and his mother’s. The three of us stood there then, and I pulled my coat on before saying, “My parent’s said that they had sent someone to come get us, didn’t say who, so we should keep out eyes-“

“Mare!” A shrill voice screamed my name from across the platform, and I turned in its direction to see my sister sprinting toward me. Behind her, Kilorn trailed.

I smiled brightly to see her, only to gasp when she launched herself at me, almost taking me to the floor. Laughing, I wrapped my arms around her tightly, and she practically squeezed the air out of me as she hugged me. When she broke away, she fixed her hat that had slipped to the side, and said excitedly, “Forgotten gods, you didn’t come for the holiday’s this year and I didn’t get to see you and I cant believe I didn’t.”

I squeezed her arms in reassurance, before she looked at Cal, who raised his brow and said, “If I don’t get the same hug then I will be offended.”

Gisa laughed as she launched herself into Cal’s arms. He lifted her off her feet and spun her in a circle before setting her back on her feet when she screamed that he was going to make her hat fall off. She giggled as she adjusted her hat again, and panting slightly she looked at Cal’s mother and blinked in surprise before saying, “Oh, hello.”

Coriane smiled shyly and dipped her head in greeting. My sister shrugged, and then grabbed Cal’s arm to get his attention. “Did you bring me more of the paint, you said you would bring me more for my birthday and then forgot.”

He laughed as he reached beyond her to shake Kilorn’s hand in greeting. My best friend smiled and gripped his hand tightly before squeezing by a chattering Gisa to hug me in greeting. When he pulled away he grabbed my bag off the ground and said, “You mom has lunch ready at home, I hope your both hungry. She seems to think Cal and I still eat as much as we did five years ago.”

I smirk and punch his arm playfully before his eyes dance to Cal’s mother, who seemed to be trying to blend into the shadows behind her. He raised a brow at her, and I glanced between the two of them before clearing my throat and saying, “Kilorn, this is Cal’s mother, Coriane Jacos. Coriane, this is my best friend from the Stilts, Kilorn Warren.”

He gave her a sloppy bow and said, “Not really sure how to address someone who was a queen, sorry.”

She laughs hesitantly and says, “A simply hello is fine, I was never one for all the decorum.”

Kilorn shrugs and then smiling brightly, he throws his arm around Cal’s shoulders to pull him away from Gisa and toward the transport that they had driven here. As they walk, Kilorn begins to recite everything that had happened here while we were gone. My sister sprints to catch up and slides her arm through Cal’s other arm, interrupting Kilorn at times to add more details. Shaking my head, I reach down and grab Cal’s bag before throwing it over my shoulder and glancing at his mother. She looks utterly surprised by my sister and friend, and I grimace at what the whole thing must look like. “Sorry about them, they’ll give him back when they realize he’s not that interested.”

She starts from her staring, and laughing uncomfortably at me catching her staring, she picks up her own bag and says, “It’s no trouble, I just… never thought I would see my son surrounded by so many people who actually want to be his friend.”

It takes me a moment to remember that Cal would not have had real friends at court. I had grown so use to him sitting in the living room with my brothers, talking about the sports that they played in Montfort, sitting with me, Cameron, and Kilorn at dinners out, discussing everything and nothing. I had become so used to seeing my little niece climbing all over him, shrieking and laughing when he stood up suddenly and tried to buck her off like a horse would. I had gotten so used to him simply being like me, like my brothers, that I had forgotten he used to be a prince.

“I guess so,” I agree, my voice trailing off as we continue across the platform. He looks over his shoulder with pleading eyes as we leave the station, but the only thing I can give him is a small smile. He rolls his eyes at my reaction and lets Kilorn continue to drag him into the transport, which he and Gisa had left running.

(////)

My parent’s townhouse is located near the center of the city, but boasts a balcony that overlooks a small river that runs through the city, as well as a view of the representatives building. If I were to strain my neck and lean out over the balcony, I could almost see the edge of Davidson’s old house. After his term in office, he and Carmadon had moved across the city to a spacious apartment on the edge of the merchant district. When Cal and I come to visit, we normally join the rest of our friends for dinner at their apartment. Carmadon is more than happy to cook for us, and the dinner is normally lively, and we all leave incredibly drunk and giggly. I wonder if we would be having such a dinner this time, or if our circumstances would change it.

Kilorn almost kicks the door to the house open, calling to my mother, while he sets my bag down by the stairs. Gisa squeezes past me and shrugs her jacket off before hanging it up on the hooks next to the door. I follow suit, and watch Cal take his mother’s jacket from her and hang it up. Bending down, I begin to take off my boots only to hear my mother come running, calling for me. I rise with a boot in hand, and smile as she gathers me in a rib breaking hug. “I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since we saw you last!”

She presses multiple kisses to my cheeks, and I roll my eyes before pulling away slightly and saying, “Mama, it hasn’t been a year, it’s been half a year at most.”

Holding me at arm’s length then, she reaches out and pushes my hair out of my face. She glances me over, and then freezes when she sees my barren left hand. She opens her mouth to start demanding information, but I quickly step out of the way and say, “Mama, I want to introduce you to our guest.”

Her mouth closes like a trap, and she glances beyond me at Cal’s mother, who had sat down on the small bench seat to take her boots off. She looks up quickly, and my mother raises her brow before leaning toward me and whispering, “She looks… young.”

I glare at my mother, who gives me an admonishing look. “It’s his mother,” I hiss softly to her, and she turns bright red at her inference. Clasping her hands together, my mother forces a smile and then says, “Welcome! I’m afraid I’ve never really had royalty in my house… besides Cal that is.”

“I don’t count,” Cal clarifies as he sets his boots to the side and steps into my mother’s waiting embrace. She stands on tip toe to kiss his cheek, and whispers loud enough for me to hear, “I hope you have a good reason for removing that ring.”

Cal pales and his eyes glance to me, making me purse my lips and shake my head. Glancing at his mother, I smile and then say, “The guest room is upstairs, you can have the bed. I’ll sleep with my sister in her room. Cal will sleep on the couch.”

“Couch duty!” Kilorn calls from the kitchen, making Cal chuckle before he releases my mother and grabs his bag from the floor. Grabbing my own, I wait for his mother to do the same. She rises quickly, as if I’ve just shocked her. Hugging the bag to her chest she follows me up the stairs to the second floor. The hallway is skinny, and the door to my parent’s bedroom is open. The bed is neatly made, and I can see my father’s cane leaning against the end of it. He must have brought it out again. I had continually told him that if his knee started to bother him then Sara was more than willing to see to it. But he must have decided to continue acting like a stubborn ass. 

I open the door next to that room, and gesturing inside said, “The bathroom is at the end of the hall. I highly suggest either getting up very early to beat my sister in there, or wait a few hours after breakfast to get in there.” 

She nods hesitantly and steps into the room, looking around at some of the paintings on the walls. Gisa must have decided to convert this room into her private art show because all of them are hers. I recognized a few of them, but the one in the corner was new. While Coriane went about slowly laying her clothes on the bed, I crouched in front of the canvas to look it over.

I blushed when I recognized my signature grey ends sweeping from a phantom wind, and the distinct branching scars that crept up my neck. I turned the canvas over and rose from my crouch. Judging by the brush strokes and the mass amount of empty space to the right of my bare neck and shoulders, Gisa wasn’t finished. 

“These are lovely paintings,” Coriane whispers behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see her observing a picture of some flowers in a vase. I smile as I step up next to her and tilt my head to the side to look at them. On the little table next to the vase was a bright scarlet cloth with golden suns stamped onto it. A sewing needle and thread were on top of it, with part of a sun unfinished.

“My sister likes to paint. She designs clothes, makes them, and paints in her spare time. This was one of her firsts,” I gesture to the painting we’re looking at, before pointing to the one hanging opposite the foot of the bed, “That one is her most recent completion.” 

Coriane cross the room to look at it closely. It was a stunning picture of a ballroom, with a small figures spinning around it. Tilting her head to the side, and smiling softly, she whispers, “It looks like the ballroom at Summerton.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it is, Cal and her talk about that stuff all the time. She likes to hear all the stories.” Which is not the same that I can say. Although Gisa tries to squeeze those out of me, I rarely give her details. While Coriane is absorbed with that image, I creep out of the room and across the hall to my sister’s room. She still lived with our parents while she got her feet under her officially, but after a few seconds of opening drawers to pack things away, I realize that a majority of her things must be at her girlfriend’s house. 

I finish putting my things away and then return to the guest room to gather Cal’s mother to go downstairs. She is sitting on the bed, looking at a smaller painting across from her. I tense when I recognize the long poles of our old home in the Stilts. The flag my mother had made seems to be waving in the breeze from the porch, with a dark stripe through its middle, one stripe for one lost son. 

“Kilorn wasn’t lying when he said lunch was ready. If you’re hungry, I’m sure there is something we could make you.” I clear my throat afterward, already feeling a wedge forming there. She looks up at me and then whispers, “The flag, I’ve never seen something like that.” 

Four stars, for four children called away to war, I remember how my mother had bought the fabric for mine and Shade’s almost simultaneously. Tapping my finger to my thumb to force the emotion in my throat down, I whisper, “My mother made it for her children… a field of red for our blood, four stars for four children that went to war, and a black stripe… for… for one who didn’t make it back.” 

Coriane’s eyes glance away from me back to the painting, and she whispers hesitantly, “I’m sorry.” 

_It wasn’t your fault_ , Cal’s words echo in my head, and I almost repeat them, but instead say, “He died doing what he thought was right.” 

She wrings her hands for a moment before nodding softly and rising from the bed. She gives me a little smile, and I shake myself out, forcing the emotions back down so that I don’t fall apart on Cal’s mother. Waving for her to follow me, I lead the way down the stairs and into the kitchen, which is packed with bodies. The little rickety table my mother owns is filled to capacity with Kilorn, Cal, Gisa, and my older brother Bree. He’s a sweaty mess, and his boots are caked with mud. I wonder If Tramy tried to enlist his help in the garden out behind the house. Judging by the dirt on his pants that is a yes. 

My mother is next to the stove cutting up apples, and I slide behind her, setting my hands on her shoulders to whisper in her ear, “Thank you for lunch.” 

She smiles and says, “Of course darling, I figured you would all be hungry when you got here.” Her eyes flicker back to my barren left hand, and I sigh before setting my chin on her shoulder and saying, “I’ll tell you in a little bit, when Cal takes her out to see everything.” 

Nodding, she smiles again and turned around with the plate of apples announcing that they are extra for everyone. I smile, but it slowly falls when I notice Cal’s mother simply standing in the doorway, looking incredibly out of place. At the same time that I notice, so does Cal. He rises from his chair, and then sets his hands on the back of it, inviting her to sit down. She does so shyly, sinking down into the seat. Bree with his mouth full of apples says, “How does it feel to be alive again Mrs. Calore?”

My mother’s hand moves faster than lightning to smack the back of my brother’s head. He almost chokes on apple, and my mother gasps in horror, “Bree Barrow!” 

Glaring at her, he cries out in injury, “It was just an honest question Ma!”

My mother’s face is bright red and she says, “I apologize for my son, he has no sense of… well anything.” 

Coriane smiles hesitantly before saying, “It’s no trouble really, I prefer bluntness.” My brother gestures to my mother as if those words prove his point, but she doesn’t accept the whole thing and urges him to apologize. He does, but its begrudged, and then goes back to eating apples. Cal slides around the table to stand next to me at the counter, his eyes bright as he watches his mother interact with everyone. Crossing his ankles, and doing the same with his arms, he brushes his fingers with mine for a heartbeat. I hook my pinkie with his for half a second, before releasing it. It feels like the space between us is hundreds of yards. 

The front door to the house opens again, and immediately, I can hear a small girls voice screaming for grandma. My mother lights up like a firework, and then hurries to the door to answer the call. A few minutes later, she returns to the kitchen with Clara on her hip, hugging her neck tightly. My mother showers her with kisses, and it honestly looks like he hasn’t seen her in years, when in reality it has probably been a week at most. 

“Clara look who is here,” my mother urges, as she points to me. Clara turns honey brown eyes on me, and then breaks into a wide grin before shouting, “Aunt Mare!”

I smile as she wiggles out of my mother’s grip and runs across the kitchen to me. I crouch down and absorb her hug, hugging her tightly when she says, “I’m so happy you came.”

“Clara darling, don’t’ squeeze all the air out of aunt Mare.” Farley says from the doorway where she is setting down a bag of groceries that she brought. Clara pulls away slightly, and then smiles sheepishly before running back to my mother who offers her the plate of apples. She grabs two in her little hands and then says, “I lost another tooth grandma.” 

“Did you? Where did you lose it?” My mother asks, and Clara is more than happy to oblige as she pulls her lip down to show the hole. Farley passes the scene before setting a jar of beans on the counter and smiling at me, she pats Cal’s arm in her customary greeting for him, and says to me, “Did you have a safe trip in?” 

“As safe as can be. They had more security on the train though.” I reply, making her frown. She shakes her head and leans against the counter with her hip to say, “Rori is tackling the Raider problem head on. She thinks it’s the right thing to do.” 

“And we couldn’t agree more,” my mother admonishes as she reaches behind Farley to put the empty plate in the sink. My friend shrugs and then watches Clara interact with Gisa. Her eyes dart to Coriane at the table, trying to mind her own business while eating a few apple slices. Farley glances at Cal with narrowed eyes and then back to his mother, obviously looking for some sort of resemblance. Eventually she says softly, “You both have the same eyes and nose.” 

Cal nods with a smile, but it falls quickly when Clara tries to climb into his mother’s lap, asking in her loud little voice, “Hello, my name is Clara, who are you?”

“Clara,” Farley hisses as she tries to squeeze around the table and move her daughter. Coriane smiles, the first real one I’ve seen from her in this house, and shakes her head to deter Farley. Setting her hand on Clara’s leg once she settles in, she replies, “It’s alright, she’s not bothering me.” 

Her eyes dance with laughter as she looks down at Clara and says to her, “Hello Clara, my name is Coriane, and I’m Cal’s mother.” 

Clara’s little full lips pucker for a moment before she looks at Cal and then says, “But you’re not old like grandma.” 

“Clara!” Farley cries again, and I can’t help laughing at the whole thing. Farley glares at me because my laughter only urges Clara on. Her daughter gives me a bright smile though, and looks up at Coriane for an answer. 

Coriane’s smile falls a little bit and she says softly, “A lot of things happened. I went away for a long time, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m not old.” 

Tilting her head to the side, Clara tries to piece all this together, and then says, “You went away like my daddy?” 

I see the recognition in Coriane’s eyes before anyone else, and her eyes dance around the room, counting people. Four children, but she only counts three, one is missing. Gisa is too young to have gone to war, so she can’t count. That leaves two in the kitchen, one child must be missing, and one son is dead. Clara may look like Farley with her bright blonde hair, but she still looks remarkably like Shade. She got the Barrow nose, and Shade’s honey gold eyes that are very similar to Bree’s. It is not exactly difficult to do all the math there. 

“I think so,” Coriane whispers in reply, and Clara’s lips pucker in confusion but she thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions. With a shrug she slides out of Coriane’s lap and makes her way to the counter, asking my mother for more apples. Appeasing her, my mother begins cutting up another one in the silence that follows. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and my mother seems to be doing just that. She hums to fill the silence, handing Clara a slice at a time so she can eat them as she goes. Eventually she walks over to Cal and ignoring everyone’s discomfort, pats his leg to get him to bend down. She licks the last of the juice off her fingers as she asks, “Can I be on your shoulders?”

“The kitchen is a little small Clara, that’s for outside or the living room, okay?” Cal says with a smile that he reserves only for Clara. Pursing her lips at his words, she says, “Fine, but I get to be on your shoulders first.” 

“Of course,” Cal promises, offering her his pinkie which she curls hers around and shakes. Pulling away she runs to her little backpack that she brought and begins pulling things out. Farley checks the watch on her wrist and then whispers, “Rori will be back in her office tonight. She wants to see the three of you then.” 

“Are you taking us?” I ask softly, and she shakes her head before saying, “I have a meeting with the generals, Clara is staying here until I get back.”

I nod, before looking back at Coriane, who is watching the little girl with a strangely sad smile. For a moment, I wonder if she is imaging her own son at that age, and realizing how much time she actually lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Rori had taken Dane’s old office, but any markings of the old owner had been removed. Now the room was decorated more sparsely, with fewer personal touches. I had almost grown used to it too, the brightly colored trinkets that Dane had collected during his travels and put all over the room had always been my favorites. Now, they have been replaced with many heavy books on law. If there was one thing Rori liked to show off, it was her knowledge of Monfort’s laws and history. 

We had been shown into her office at sunset, and had been left with two cups of coffee for me and Cal, and a small cup of tea for his mother. She hadn’t touched it though, and it had gone cold a while ago. She had instead been staring out of the window behind that desk, watching the sun slowly set and light the room on fire. Cal had gotten tired of looking at me and telling me to sit down while I wandered around the room. The last time I had been in here, Rori had tried to get me to join up in her government, assuring me that I would be doing a great service to everyone. I had told her that it was probably best if I stayed away from governments for a while, and that I preferred what I was doing. 

I wondered if she would try something similar this time. 

As if my musing summons her, the sliding double doors into the room open and Rori steps in. An older woman, probably a few years younger than my mother, she was stiff and honestly reminded me of Anabel at times. She preferred to dress in a staunch uniform, that was neither military, nor political. She did not belong to either class of people, but instead saw herself as something in the middle. 

She clears her throat to announce her presence, and Cal rises from his chair, to meet her eye. Waving his gesture of respect away, she slides behind her desk in a graceful swoop, her expression cool as she says, “Welcome back to Ascendant you two. And welcome back to the world of the living Miss Jacos.” 

Coriane shifted uncomfortably in her chair, reaching out for her cup of tea. She nods softly at the greeting, and Rori eyes her carefully before saying, “My name is Rori Journ, I am the Premier of Montfort.” 

“I know who you are, my son explained if very clearly,” Coriane replies, her voice sharpening slightly, but the words drop at the end, and I can see how her hands shake slightly in the small slosh of the tea in the cup. Cal seems to notice too, because he reaches out to set his hand on her knee. In response, she sets her hand on his. “You run a government that I have never heard of or seen, but this place… it is perhaps the most magical thing I have ever seen.” 

“And you are perhaps the most magical thing we have seen.” Rori speaks without any of the genuine warmth that Cal’s mother managed to infuse in her voice. Slowly leaning forward and resting her forearms on the table, Rori continues, “Do you have any recollection of what happened? Perhaps you remember death?” 

Coriane’s grip on the tea cup turns her knuckles black, and she swallows before saying, “I remember little to nothing, just blackness, and then waking up in the middle of a storm.” 

“Amuse me if you will, what is the last thing you remember before the blackness?” Rori asks as she slowly pulls a group of files from the top shelf of her desk. 

“That hardly seems like a question-“ Cal begins, but Rori silences him with a look, as Coriane delicately sets her cup of tea back on the edge of the desk. Swallowing, she inhales deeply and closing her eyes whispers, “It’s all very fuzzy, a lot of what happened that night was not my own… thinking.”

“How so?” Rori interrupts, as she opens one of the folders and uncaps her pen. Coriane watches it for a moment before saying, “A whisperer at the court had been in my head for years, at least that’s what I believe.” 

Rori nods, her eyes never coming up from the paper as she writes that down. She looks up then, her brow raised. Seeing that this is an invitation to continue, Cal’s mother sits up a little straighter in her chair, clears her throat and says, “The only things I really remember are handing Cal to the nurse and then writing in my,” she trails off and then laughing softly to herself, continues with, “It must sound so silly, a grown woman writing in a diary. But I wrote one more entry, and then went into the bathroom. I remember the water, and the wall with the mirror, and the wedding crown. I threw it on the floor before getting into the tub.” 

She looks down at her hand, and running her hand along the hem of her sleeve, she looks away. I narrow my eyes slightly, but watch as she slowly seems to transform. Her eyes harden, and her spine straightens further. For a moment, I could picture her like a queen, dressed in gold and black, the colors of her house mixed with Cal’s. She would have been beautiful; I could see how his father had loved her. 

Meeting Rori’s eyes across the desk she said, “Is there a point to these questions?”

Rori looked up from her file, her eyes searching us across the desk. Eventually, she folds her fingers together and asks, “Do you know what happens when dead people come back Miss Jacos?”

Coriane raised her brow, the first true sign that I had seen of her being shocked by the use of that title. Her lips pursed before she said, “No, but I do know that I was married before death, and that there is a proper title because of that.” 

“Til death do you part is the vow, I believe. As you both passed away, I believe that the title is no longer fitting. You were not a widow were you? Your husband was a widower for perhaps half a year before he married again. You two are no longer married by law. I believe it was customary in court to keep your family’s name as well?”

Whatever wind had been in Coriane’s sail was lost with that comment, and she seemed to try and sink into the chair. Something in me ached at that, and I said carefully, “Cal is living proof of their union.” 

“But he is not a marriage certificate. Children are born out of wedlock quiet often, are they not?” She narrowed her eyes on me, and I quickly dropped my eyes. When none of us seemed willingly to provide any more evidence against her, Rori reached up to fix her hair, although nothing was out of place. She collected herself for another second before saying, “When dead people come back, people get scared. Why didn’t my loved one come back, why did my enemy come back?” 

Cal seems to shift for a moment in the chair, as if he is already thinking of the long, long list of people that we both put in the ground who would not be happy to see us. Rori does not miss the movement, and I feel oddly like a student again, sitting in front of the teacher after I had been caught with Kilorn for a prank that we had pulled. 

Steepling her fingers, Rori points them at Coriane and says with a cool smile, “You are not alone though. We have reports flowing in from all over the country of strange storms, and people who were long thought dead returning. We have no explanation for such events., although our electricons have begun to develop a method for detecting the storms before they occur.” 

“Electricons?” Coriane whispers in confusion, and Rori simply gestures in my direction. I tense, realize that she had never seen my ability in action. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I held my hand out. Summoning the sparks feels glorious and they dance across my fingertips, before catching and stretching between my fingers like webbing. The bright purple light races up my arm before I force it back down to my hand where it dies slowly. 

“Fabulous Miss Barrow,” Rori says as she watches my hand. “We’ll need you working with the others to help us detect these storms. Did you happen to detect the storm that brought Miss Jacos to us?”

“Yes,” I whisper softly, making Coriane turn to me in shock. She had been staring at my hand the entire time, mesmerized by the sight of lightning in my hand. It normally took people some time to get used to the idea that I could just conjure electricity from thin air. There was no need for it to already be present, although we had determined that when I harnessed a storm without creating it, I was impossibly deadly. Ignoring the look she gives me, I continue, “I had no idea what it was though. I thought I just had a headache from the power of the storm.” 

“Interesting, Rafe complained of something similar hours before one hit, but the others have observed a sort of diminishing in their abilities when the storms are directly above them, did you notice such a thing?”Rori asks, turning all her attention on me. She reminds me of a damn bird of prey sometimes, or something that wants to pick my bones clean and then use them to clean its teeth. Raising my chin though, I say, “I’m not in the practice of going out and training in storms anymore.” 

“Pity,” Rori observes, her eyes dancing to my hand again, this time the one missing my engagement ring. I slowly shift it to my side so that it is out of her view, and she barely reacts. Whatever was going through her mind, it must have been interesting. She does not give me her attention for long though, and eventually turns back to Coriane saying, “We need to determine if there is a pattern to the people returning. Or even better, if we can determine how you are returning, we can perhaps put a stop to it or learn to control it somehow.” 

“Control it?” Cal asks with a snort before saying, “You want to be able to bring certain people back?”

“If there is a murder Mr. Calore, who do you think would know the killer better, the victim or the witness?” Rori eerily asks, as she rises from her desk. 

“Depends on if the killer stood in the front or the back.” Cal replies sharply, his eyes devoid of all the warmth I loved so much. Rori turns back to him from the small table where she is pouring herself some coffee. She smiles at Cal, setting the tea pot down before saying, “Of course. Another hypothetical situation then? Someone knows very important information, but they were killed before they could deliver it. Imagine the power one could have if they could control whether or not that information actually got to its destination.”

“It sounds like you want to play a game of god,” I say coolly. She frowns at me before turning back around to pour tea into her cup. When she turns around Rori says, “Miss Barrow when I was a little girl, before Montfort became even more balanced, and the Silvers ruled over us, do you know what my parents called them?”

I swallowed my retort, waiting for her to speak. She tilts her head to the side with a curious smile and says, “gods, we thought they had actually come down from the heavens to rule over us. I’m sure you experienced a similar situation growing up, until you discovered you could do things they never dreamed of?”

I looked away, avoid both Cal’s and Rori’s eyes. She did not stop talking though, her voice cool as she said, “Do you know what they called Ardents when they first began appearing? Young gods, Miss Barrow, sent to battle the Silvers who had abused their power. I’m sure plenty of the little red children in Norta who saw you called you a god.” 

“They mostly wanted me to not show up at their houses.” I said harshly. Regardless of the argument she was trying to make, something was not right about determining who came back and who stayed dead. What if it turned out it wasn’t something that could be controlled? It would be fun to watch Rori stumble over that roadblock, but I had a feeling she would not be this confident unless she knew something and wasn’t telling anyone.

Sitting back down at her desk, she sips at her tea for a moment before saying, “For the time being, I want you to stay in Ascendant Miss Jacos. As for you two, Miss Barrow and Mister Calore, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay as well. If the dead are returning, and we have no control over it, then anyone could return at any moment. It would be best if you both were not alone when that happens.” 

Cal rises from the chair quickly then, offering his mother his hand. She takes it, and he pulls her to her feet before saying, “Thank you for the coffee and tea, Premier.” 

“Of course, if you remember anything else Miss Jacos, do not hesitate to contact my office and ask to speak to me.” Rori smiles at us, and I grab my coat in a huff before pulling it on and following Cal out the door. 

We pass through the multiple marble hallways that take us out into the main building center. There are representatives everywhere, walking to and from their offices, carrying folders of paperwork or just their early dinner if they are staying late. I walk next to Cal as he keeps a tight grip on his mother’s arm. I can practically see the steam rising from him, and his mother tries futilely to pull her arm from his grip. 

“Cal,” I spit eventually, and he stops, spinning around to say, “She is insufferable.” 

“Let go of your mother’s arm,” I continue as if he never spoke, and he looks down at his hand which is gripping her arm in a vice. He releases it softly, and then whispers an apology. She smiles softly and rubs at the spot before saying, “She does not make friends easily I take it?”

“The representatives voted her in because she was conservative compared to Dane. She didn’t want to go to war anymore, and really only wanted to deal with things back here. She campaigned on the platform that we should get rid of the Raiders before we went around pushing our beliefs on everyone else. Fat lot it’s done us,” Cal says as he starts walking again. His long strides mean that his mother and I almost have to run to keep up with him. He doesn’t slow down either, and I have to roll my eyes as we step out of the building and onto the long line of stairs to the bottom. 

Coriane seems to take them two at a time next to me and huffs, “Is he normally like this after a meeting with her?”

“I call it the soldier mode,” I grumble as I try to keep up, “he’ll rant for a few minutes and then be over it.” 

Sure enough, Cal rants all the way back to my parent’s town house. At least he slows down at times though when he sees us falling behind. Eventually, I give up trying to keep up, and so does his mother, which means he often has to sit on corners and wait for us. His mother has more than enough questions though, about the shops we pass, and the people. She eyes a young silver couple walking with their friends who are red, and then asks me, “Is this place really true? It can’t be possible, all of this.” 

“I used to think there had to be a catch, that there was something that was being kept from me, but I worked with Dane for years. It’s all true, all of it.” I reply with a smile, as I watch the group enter a small coffee shop, chattering about a play they were seeing tonight. We pass by the shop, and the smell of fresh bread hits my nose, making my mouth water. I swallow, and then gesture up a street and say, “My sister works at a shop up that way, and my brother Tramy works near her too. He’s going to take over the little garden shop once it’s owner dies. He’s been working under him for years.” 

“We should go see both of them!” His mother says suddenly, and then slips behind me to make her way up the street. I freeze in surprise and say, “Wait!” 

Cal turns the corner toward my parent’s home ahead of me, and I end up stuck between them. It’s an easy choice though. Cal knows the city, his mother… does not. So I hurry after her, sprinting up the hill to catch her. She is paused outside of a jewelry window, looking over some of the necklaces in the window when I finally reach her. She turns to smile at me and then says, “Lead the way.” 

Catching my breath, I try not to growl in annoyance, and instead force calm before gesturing up the street. She follows at a happy pace, looking around at all of the shops. There are very few people on the street right now for such a lovely day in early spring. No doubt everyone was at home preparing for some sort of late winter snow, or maybe even a rain storm. I pick up the pace a little at the thought. I do not want to get caught out in either. Snow seems unlikely though, especially with how warm it is. 

I lead us around another corner and the shop Gisa works in comes in focus. The window is filled with beautiful fabrics on display, as well as a few dresses. I open the door, causing the little bell above it to ring. 

I hear movement in the back as we step in, and then my sister’s head pokes out from the doorway behind the counter. She grins brightly at us and then says, “Mare! I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“We’re on our way back from the meeting with Rori, thought we’d stop by and say hello.” I say as I look over a bolt of fabric that she has pulled from the rack. It’s stunning lace, and I finger it for a moment before Gisa appears on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Do you want to see the sketch I have for your dress?”

I glare at her and then reply in an equally soft whisper, “I told you I was just going to do something from a store. I don’t want you wasting your pay and your time on-“ 

“What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t make my sister’s wedding dress?” Gisa admits, and I can’t ignore the little whine of pain her voice. Sighing, I shake my head and say, “It’s sweet, but Gisa I don’t want you to spend that much on me.” 

“I want to though, not only will you look stunning, but everyone will want to buy my dresses then because Mare Barrow wore one for her wedding.” Gisa teases as she squeezes my arm. I have to laugh with her as I take my hand off the fabric. She looks at it with me for a moment before saying, “I don’t know how good you would look in satin, so I was thinking lace, maybe even a lace veil, something super long so that you have to have people carry it behind you.” 

“Do I look like I want to wear a train that long?” I ask with a smile before glancing at Cal’s mother over my shoulder. She is fingering a particularly beautiful blouse that Gisa’s master had made. I nudge her and then say, “You have a customer.” 

She frowns at Coriane and then whispers, “it’s so odd, she looks like she’s the same age as you, but she’s Cal’s mother. She could be his sister.”  
I frown and then turn back to look at the lace again. Reaching for another pattern, I say, “She’s going through a lot. She died when he was only two. He’s grown now, and she has no idea who he is as a person.” 

Gisa looks at me for a moment and then whispers, “Or any idea about the two of you.” 

“What makes you think that?” I grumble, and she nods to my bare left hand. Her words a careful as she says, “Mama almost had a fit when she didn’t see it. She thought you two had broken off the engagement and just hadn’t told anyone.” 

Shaking my head, I glance over my shoulder again quickly, but she’s moved further away from us. Leaning my head toward my sister I say, “It’s my fault. I took the ring off. Cal wanted to tell her, but I… I don’t trust her yet.” 

“Does she know that you two were… together, at all?” Gisa whispers in surprise, and I shake my head again quickly. Her eyes widen and she hisses, sounding oddly like our mother, “Mare! She’s going to probably have a heart attack if she finds out the two of you lied about the whole thing.” 

“We’ll tell her when I’m comfortable with her.” I assured, but I don’t sound very certain. Gisa shakes her head at me and then whispers, “You’re asking for trouble.” 

With that she crosses the little shop to Coriane, and smiling, asks if she likes anything. Mostly she just has questions, some about Gisa, which pieces are hers, and where she learned to sew so beautifully. My sister is more than happy to talk about her sewing, and eventually her painting. 

I ignore them both for the most part, wandering around the store and looking at all the bolts of fabric. I hear my name come up in the conversation though, and glance over my shoulder and tune back into the conversation. 

Coriane gestures to me and then says, “You seem very close with your sister.” 

Gisa glances at me for a moment before saying, “It wasn’t always that way.” 

“You were always a stuck up pain,” I say with a shrug and she sticks her tongue out before saying, “Mare was jealous, the only thing she was good at was pick pocketing, until she got the wrong person and ended up with her hand in a prince’s purse.” 

I flip around on her, and she smiles, only for it to fall quickly when she realizes how far she went. Coriane looks between the two of us and hesitantly says, “Oh?” 

Gisa’s eyes scream an apology, and I have no choice but to look back at the pattern I was eyeing before and say, “Yes. I tried to steal something from Cal. That’s how we met.” 

Coriane laughs at that, and I look at her with narrowed eyes, trying to understand where the joke is. She smiles at me and then says, “What in heaven’s name was he doing out in the Stilts?”

“He liked to frequent the bars there when the court was staying at Summerton, he wanted to know the truth about what was going on with us. He didn’t just want the information from his advisors. My friend was in trouble, and I needed money. So, I reached into his pocket and he caught me.” 

“Much to Mare’s surprise, she was the best thief in the Stilts.” Gisa says as she hurries by me to hide behind the counter and go back to work. I glare at her, wanting to punch her in the teeth. She was certainly painting a lovely picture of me. Thief turned princess, turned murderer, I was certainly a colorful portrait now. 

“I’m surprised Tibe let him do such a thing,” Coriane murmurs as her brow furrows. She shakes her head with a sigh and then says, “Unless he did it in secret and didn’t tell him.” 

“That was probably the case,” I agreed, and Gisa looked between the two of us. She clears her throat eventually and then says, “Speaking of Cal, where is he?”

Coriane straightens up in surprise and then looks around as if she just realized her son was missing. I shrug and reply, “Probably almost back to the town house, that, or on his way back here trying to find us.” 

“Should we go find him?” Coriane asks in worry, and I smirk before shaking my head. She looks out at the sky which is getting much darker, as night approaches, her face pinched in worry. Gisa looks up from her work on the counter and says, “He probably assumed you went to see me. He’ll be at the town house when we get back. I’m closing in a few minutes. We can walk back together.” 

Coriane does not seem at all calmed by that statement, but nods nonetheless. Her unease makes her for an uncomfortable companion while we wait for Gisa to clean up the shop and lock the door behind us. Even as we make our way down the streets to the town house, she seems to want to sprint ahead of us, or push us faster. I wonder if this is what my mother had looked like when I used to run off and play in the mud by the river. She’d had three boys before me though, so I doubted she was all that worried about me.

As we rounded the corner to the townhouse, the streets become a little busier, even though a light drizzle has started to fall. I can see the light on in the living room of the house, and I can almost imagine how warm it is inside. Through the open curtains, I can see my father in his chair by the fire place, smiling as he watches something in front of him. Bree passes by the widow to collapse in a chair out of sight, and Tramy follows, probably bickering with his brother. 

We start up the steps, and Gisa opens the door before announcing us to everyone. My mother pokes her head out of the living room and says, “Thank goodness! We were beginning to worry that you all had gotten lost.” 

Clara pokes her head out near my mother’s legs and then says, “Aunt Mare, hurry up and come help me with my puzzle. Cal is not helping.” 

I smile as I shrug my coat off and slip out of my boots before entering the room. Sure enough there are pieces all over the floor, and Cal is laying on his side next to them, propped up by his elbow. Clara grabs my hand and pulls me toward them before sitting down cross legged on the floor. She pouts and then says, “Cal says we have to do the edge first, but I want to do the picture first.” 

“He’s right. It’s easier to do the outsides first and then middle.” I say as I sit down next to her. She narrows her eyes at me and then says, “You never agree with Cal.” 

“Do to,” I argue with a teasing smile, “But only when he’s right, which is not often.” 

Cal grunts at that, and then smiles at me. At least he was in a better mood. His mother slips into the doorway then, as Gisa squeezes by her to force her way between Bree and Tramy on the couch to watch everyone. My mother watches Coriane for a few moments before saying, “I can bring you a chair from the kitchen-“ 

“I think I’m just going to go to bed. Thank you though.” She smiles softly at all of us, and then says, “Excuse me.” 

With that she vanishes like a phantom. The stairs creak slightly, and in the silence that follows her departure, we can all hear her moving down the hallway upstairs, and closing the door quietly. 

“Odd sort isn’t she?” My dad grunts, and I throw a piece of the puzzle at him, before hissing at him to mind his manners. He smirks at me and then dipping his head to Cal says, “Must run in the family.” 

Cal laughs at that and then sits up a little straighter to say, “I’ll check on her in a little bit.” 

Gisa gets up then to tell our mother the truth about our engagement and she nods gravely. Eventually my sister relays the information to everyone. My brothers are not happy with the whole thing, but agree to play along. My dad is the most displeased. He watches the two of us for a moment before saying, “You two have been pulled apart by everything, including each other. And you want to let something like this do it again?”

“It’s not like we’re not together Dad,” I assure him as I help Clara put a few pieces together. She hadn’t understood what me and Cal being engaged meant, when we had first come to my family with the news. As far as she was concerned, we had already been married because she saw us kissing, and only married people kissed according to her. It was nothing special for her to not see me wearing my ring, but it was an added bonus that she had never really liked calling Cal anything other than Cal; although Farley had tried for a while to get “stupid” to be his new name. Clara had liked it, for a time, and then had gotten bored of it. So at least we didn’t have to worry about her slipping up and calling him uncle or something like that. 

“I just think it’s ridiculous,” My dad argues as he rises from his chair. He ruffles Cal’s hair in an oddly paternal way as he passes and says, “I would think you would protest the most. You were the one who spent months planning that proposal and asking each of us for permission.” 

Cal’s face pales with a blush at the accusation and then says softly, “If Mare is uncomfortable, then I won’t put her in a position that makes it worse.” 

“Just be careful,” my mother whispers, “I know I would be furious if I found out that my sons had been hiding their engagements from me because they thought I would be upset with who they chose.” Bree snorts at that, and gets a glare from my mother in response. 

“All of that thinking is in the past,” my dad agrees, and I sigh as I whisper, “That’s the problem, she’s from the past. She doesn’t understand anything that is going on, let alone how much everything has changed.” 

“Then you two can be her introduction to it.” My dad argues, and I purse my lips before saying stiffly, “We already made the decision. We’re sticking with it.” 

Cal looks at me carefully, and I sigh, forcing the tension out of my shoulders with the exhale. Reaching for another piece of Clara’s puzzle that she’s searching for, I offer it to her and say, “I need time, I need to know who she is.” 

No one argues with me about that, not even Cal, who simply reaches across the space to set his hand on my knee. His touch is warm and reassuring as he caresses his thumb up and down the inside of my leg. I fear how much I will miss it in the coming months, when these touches will be forbidden once more.


	5. Chapter 5

(Coriane)

I hate this hallway, I think to myself as I move down the white marble steps into the smaller hallway that should take me to the main ballroom. I pick up my skirts, trying to adjust to the weight of them. I hate these too, I think bitterly as I try to pick up the pace. _A Lady is_ ** _never_** _late_ , Aunt Jessabel whispers scratch at the back of my skull.

I pause in the middle of the hallway. _You’re dead_ , I think back to those thoughts. 

_So are you_. 

My entire body locks up in horror as that third voice dances into my head. I go to scream, but no sound escapes. I can’t even scream this time. I couldn’t scream in my bedchambers either, not even when I wanted so desperately to scream for the Arven stationed outside my door. He was supposed to be protecting me, keeping her away. 

_You’re not here,_ I whisper to Elara as I start moving again, my eyes dead set on the double doors on the other end of the hallway. Tibe is behind them, I’m sure. If not him, then Julian, or Sara, or the gardens, or something, something other than _her_. Every step I took seemed to take me further from those doors though. I ground my jaw and pressed on, trying to walk faster.

Beads of sweat ran down my neck from my hairline, and I could feel my crown slipping, each step making it fall further to the side. With a clatter, if fell, and smashed into a rainbow of crystal. I paused and looked down at the shards of opal and diamond on the ground. 

When I looked back up, I was back in my bedchambers, watching a nurse’s back as she walked out of the room with Cal watching me over her shoulder. His eyes never leave mine. I went to take a step after her, trying to call for her to bring him back. If Cal was here, if he had just been here in the moment, everything would have been fine. 

_You would have killed him too. You would have taken your precious son with you._

I shook off Elara’s voice, hissing at her to be quiet. She simply laughed though, and I felt like an animal pacing a cage as I tried to escape her. Slowly, I curled up in the corner of my room, wrapping my arms around my knees to hug them to my chest. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed my hands to my ears and rocked back and forth. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” I screamed at her, but she laughed. She didn’t stop, not even when I stood and grabbed the biggest shard of the crown that I could find. She laughed through the first cut, and my scream.

I woke gasping for air, clutching the blankets to my chest, as I sat bolt upright, my throat hoarse. I didn’t recognize this place, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see…

The door into the room was thrown open, and I almost jumped out of the bed in surprise when it hit the wall. There was a crackling sound and all the lights in the room exploded to life. I shielded my eyes when they came on. 

When I finally managed to open my eyes, I could see Mare’s silhouette in the doorway. Her hand was filled with the soft glow of purple lightning, but as she looked around the room and noticed it was empty, the purple sparks vanished, and the lights in the room dimmed until they were gone. 

The darkness was complete in that moment, I shivered at the thought. The hallway beyond her was dark too, but I could just make out her head when she asked softly, “Nightmares?”

I shook my head softly, and looked away from her. It takes what feels like eternity, but she closes the door, the lock hitting home with a click. When I look up again, the dim light of the moon is falling into the room, barely illuminating the floorboards and the paintings on the walls. 

I sit awake, watching as the light of dawn slowly dances across the sky. I don’t dare close my eyes again.

(/////)

When I come downstairs a few hours later, I can hear the clatter of dishes and conversation from the kitchen. I can make out a new voice, another boy’s, it must be the other brother who I did not get to meet the other day. Sure enough when I step into the doorway, I see the table occupied by Mare’s two brothers, and Mare herself. She looks up when I enter, her eyes tracking me as I go to take a seat at the table. She reminds me of a cat. There used to be one that prowled in the bird atrium when someone accidentally left the door open. I feel like a bird she is watching too. 

“Is Cal here?” I ask softly, and that seems to stop the conversation around the table. Her brothers look between each other, and then go about taking a very deep interest in their breakfast. Mare simply looks down at the cup of coffee she has between her hands. When she looks back up, her expression is somewhat softer. I get the feeling she does not let people see her give this expression often. 

“He left this morning. Rori called early and said she needed him to start working with the soldiers. If he wants to get an apartment around here, he’ll need to start working now. She offered to reinstate him at a captain’s position. The last time he was in the military he left as an officer.” She states simply before lifting the mug and drinking deeply from it. I catch her eyes dancing over my shoulder, and I can almost hear her mother’s hesitation in flipping over the eggs she’s cooking. I can’t even begin to truly process that. Cal had said he was a general before, which meant he had been demoted upon abdicating. Did captains see as much action as officers? What about generals? I couldn’t remember, and I was too tired to chase down those thoughts. 

“So we are staying here permanently?” I ask, trying to make the quiver in my voice stop. I had liked the other house much more. At least there it was only Mare and my son, here, here her whole family can hear my panicked night terrors. I don’t want to be a burden. 

Mare’s face doesn’t change a whit, not even when she says, “That depends on what Rori has planned.” 

“And what does she have planned?” 

“I don’t know,” Mare’s voice hardens. Her brothers shift away from her slightly, and it takes me a moment to understand why. The hair on their heads is starting to stand on end. The sound of silverware hitting dishes stops, and even the frying in the pan stops as well. 

It takes one exhale for Mare to sit back in the chair, and for the air around us to stop smelling like ozone. It is as if a jar has been opened slightly and the energy inside released, because the sounds of the morning return. 

The door into the house opens and closes, and Mare’s friend, Kilorn, I remember announces himself to everyone. The brothers seem to exhale in relief, and one of them leaps up from the table to wash his dish in the sink. He whistles as Kilorn walks into the kitchen, his shirt smudged with something. He walks past Mare’s mother and reaches straight into the pan for what is in there. She smacks his hand and sends him scurrying away. 

Waving his hand in embarrassment, Kilorn edges into the unoccupied seat next to Mare, and puts his boots up into her lap. Smiling at her, he says, “Saw Cal this morning, he was taking the new trainees on a run. I felt kind of bad for him though, it looked like he was about to die.” 

Mare raises a brow, her eyes finally leaving me to turn toward her friend. “Is that so?”

“I figured you two would at least still be training and running together.” 

“Well Kilorn, when people become adults, they stop having time to do things like that.” She teases as she rises from the table to wash out her mug, pushing his legs out of her lap as she does so. He sticks his tongue out at her and says, “I am an adult for your information. I have a job just like you and Cal do.” He puts his feet up onto the seat that she just stopped occupying as if to punctuate the point. 

“Right, because filing papers and stapling them is so beneficial to society.” She says with her back to him, as she turns to the sink. He laughs at her comment and puts his hands behind his head, carefree and bored with the conversation. “Well someone has to do that job. Besides, I’m moving up the chain. I’m helping with Xander’s upcoming run for Premier, I handle all sorts of important papers. I’m in on all the gossip.” 

“So you and Cameron have continued to work on your reading skills? When do you two find the time when you spend so much time rolling around in bed?” Kilorn kicks his heels down onto the floor and pointing a finger at Mare who has just turned around he says, “CarefuI, can say something… very similar.” His eyes dance to me for half a second during his pause before turning back to Mare, who narrows her eyes just slightly. He swallows deeply, and then smiles sheepishly. 

“About who?” One of the brothers pushes, his brows wiggling at the tease. Mare’s eyes flash to him, and for a moment, I fear she may blow him to pieces like an electric socket. He catches the look she throws and looks away quickly. The room goes quiet again, and I glance at the clock above the door. Eight twenty, and this day already feels like it will last for eternity.

(///)

Mare walks fast for someone with such short legs, and I have to keep up with her. More than anything I want to stop and stare at everything around us though. The people in the little cafes drinking coffee and laughing are mixed groups of reds and silvers. My heart pounds at the sight and I’m not sure if it is in surprise or discomfort. I feel like I’m looking through a blurry lens. 

Maybe this is all a fever dream, maybe the whole thing is just one crazy dream that I’m having. It seems like a very real possibility. Maybe I had gone to bed, had a nightmare about Elara, and I was still dreaming. Yes, that made a lot of sense. My son was still a baby, and I was going to wake up any minute now, and Tibe would be back from the front, and the nurse would bring Cal in and I would have the courage to tell Tibe the truth.

This was all just a dream. 

I almost slam into Mare who has stopped walking, my mind having wandered so far away that I almost walked into the middle of the street where the transports rushing by would have hit me. Would have killed me… again. The thoughts is odd, rather than uncomfortable. By my colors, I hoped I wasn’t getting used to all of this. 

I barely catch myself in time, and clear my throat at the awkwardness when she looks over her shoulder at me. Dream or not, this girl was lethal. Her gaze could level buildings, and no doubt that… lightning of hers, could do far worse. “This place is unlike anything I have ever seen,” I justify my distraction quickly, and her expression soften just the slightest bit again. She looks forward and says softly, “It was for me too.” 

I keep forgetting that she wasn’t born here, that this place is not her original home. She is Nortian, just like I am. Just like Cal, my mind whispers. The next thought follows quickly on its heels, _they never told you how they met, there is more to the story than they say. You had to learn about it from the sister letting it slip. What else are they hiding?_

I watch her profile for a moment, trying to figure out the answer to that question. Mare certainly seemed like the type to keep information close if it benefited her. I had no doubt that she would keep things from me for a long time. I wanted to know about my son though, about how he had become the man I saw today. And I didn’t want to hear about the war, and all the death. I just wanted to get to know my son. I didn’t know anything about his upbringing, other than the fact that Elara had been around more than I would have liked… and Tibe had fallen apart. He had fallen apart, and disobeyed my wishes to keep our son from going head first into battle. He’ll be bigger than his father. Sara had told me that, had warned me of what would become of my son. If I had lived, he would have never seen the front. He would have never followed in Tibe’s footsteps. 

The small group of people around us starts moving again, and Mare does as well, pulling me from my thoughts so that I have to keep up again. She leads the way to a massive building that a horde of young people heads toward. She crossed the pristine lawns as if it is a day like any other, and she seems to blend into the crowd of people carrying their books and bags. 

I watch a group of girls walk by, all of them debating something heatedly as they pass us. They look at Mare for a moment as she walks by, and their conversation ends abruptly before they bow their heads and start whispering. Mare pointedly ignores them as she starts up the steps of the main building. I hurry after her, my eyes darting to everyone who looks at her twice. 

She starts into the marble halls, filled with pockets of sunlight from the windows that are everywhere to let natural light in. The hallways are less crowded, and judging by all the closed doors, people are sitting in classes. I have no idea who or what we are looking for, but Mare walks with a purpose. 

She turns right at the cross roads of sorts and walks past numerous boards that display fliers for research and travel. She rolls her eyes at them, and then pauses in front of a large door. She opens it, gesturing for me to walk in. I scurry by her and she follows, holding the door so that it doesn’t slam closed. 

The auditorium we enter is packed with students, all taking careful notes on the information being projected onto the board. Mare leans against the back wall, watching the man at the bottom who is writing feverishly on the board as well, lecturing as he goes. I try to do the same as her, pressing myself into the shadow created by the overhanging above the door, and listen carefully to see if I can actually learn something about this place. 

The far off sound of bells stops everything though, and the students hurriedly pack, their voices and bodies hiding the man at the bottom, even though I can hear his voice trying to shout at them to remember their reading, and that it’s changed to include another chapter. The students file past us, most of them looking at Mare who nods to them. Their eyes go wide and they elbow their friends before whispering excitedly as they leave the room. I can’t help but be grateful that no one recognizes me like they do with her. Whoever Mare was, she was important. The guards on the train had recognized her, and now these students were fascinated with her presence. 

When most of them have left, she starts down the stairs to the pit of the auditorium. I hurry after her, avoiding the stragglers that run up the stairs to catch up with their classmates. 

Mare smiles as she steps into the brighter lights that illuminate the ground floor, and says, “Since when do they have you teaching more modern history? I thought you were teaching Understanding the Calamites.” 

The man that turns around to smile at her words makes me freeze. I would know him anywhere, those tired eyes and sorrow filled shoulders were always buried in books and hunched over charts. I stay by the stairs hidden by shadows, my heart pounding. He looks so old now, with lines in his face and his hair speckled with grey. You should look like that, my mind hisses, and yet here you are, twenty-two years young.

“That’s my class at four, perhaps you should sit in on it.”

“I would, but you know I can hardly sit still when you and Cal are going at it.” Mare teases as Julian turns around gives her a quick one armed hug. He pulls away quickly to start gathering his books. His words are rushed as well as his movements as he says, “Sara and I just got back from Horn Mountain last night. We got your message, although I’m not entirely sure what had to wait until I returned that you couldn’t tell me over the—“

He drops his books when he sees me, his skin going pale immediately. I feel my cheeks heat as I step into the light as well. He blinks for a moment, and his eyes drag over me while his mouth works. He wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say. Julian is not one for useless conversation either, he only speaks when he knows exactly what he will say. 

I wish Mare would have told us where we were going, at least then I could have planned what I would say. Instead of that though, I smile weakly and whisper, “Hello Julian.” 

Finally, he seems to find his voice, and it’s barely a wheeze as he chokes, “Cori?”

My heart breaks as his eyes water. Whatever guilt he is feeling, I wish he wouldn’t. He must have known what was happening with me, and guaranteed he hadn’t tried to really help, but he’d had so much on his plate already… 

He shakes himself from his stupor, and with tears running down his worn cheeks, he steps over the mess of books at his feet. It takes two long strides for him to close the space between us. I had expected him to crush me to him. Instead, he hesitantly reaches out and pulls me into a tentative embrace. He still smells like dusty books and worn paper. His whole body shakes as he holds me. He barely does though, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he squeezes too tight. I wrap my arms around him in response, my eyes completely dry as I whisper, “I always told you that squinting over all those books would give you wrinkles.” 

He lets out a choked sob, before he hugs me tighter. I close my eyes as I return the action. He runs his hand over my hair, and in time with each stroke whispers, “I’m so sorry, I’m so very sorry Cori.” 

My eyes fly open, and I pull away from him sharply. He looks about as embarrassed as I feel. I shake my head quickly, dispelling anything else he has to say. “I’m not angry with you,” I whisper while he wipes his eyes with the edge of his sleeve and looks at Mare over his shoulder. She’s sitting perched on the stole near the desk, taking an incredible interest in a bunch of crushed up chalk on the table, resolved to let us have our moment. 

“How is this possible?” My brother whispers as he looks me up and down again, as if he can’t believe I’m really standing in front of him. He turns to her though, waiting for her answer. 

“Figured you would know,” Mare says with a shrug.

“Does Cal—“

“He knows, we’ve met.” I answer for her, bringing Julian’s eyes back to me. His head falls to side just slightly, as his expression becomes sorrowful once more. “He’s become a man you would be proud of,” my brother begins, but quickly loses the words. I smile weakly, and nod. Julian’s eyes fall to the floor and his books that are everywhere. He clicks his tongue and bends down to gather them up. I bend down and pick one up as well, turning it over in my hand. It has his name on it. I raise my brow at it before handing it to him. He smiles sheepishly, and in that expression, I can see the twenty-year-old boy I remember him being. He turns to put the books in a bag, and says, “I’ve… been busy with research.” 

I edge around him and then say, “And teaching. I never would have thought you would do that.” 

“Julian is one of the only professors here that is considered well versed in old era knowledge. He teaches the advanced class.” Mare spouts off as she pulls one of the books out of the bag to flip through it. Julian gives her a simple admonishing look, but his blush is obvious as he says, “Professor Calo is just as well versed if not more than I am.” 

Mare shrugs, and I smile bitterly as I say, “Father was always so worried that he was going to lose you to the academies.” 

My brother can’t help but smile as he says, “He turns in his grave every time I walk in here.” 

We both chuckle, and for a moment I am sitting in the garden at our old estate, with Sara at the table laughing with us. His smile falls quickly though, and the moment is lost to the dust. I look down at my hands before gesturing around us. “This place… I never would have thought something like it was possible.” 

“It was alive and well when we were children.” Julian says with a smile, happy to discuss history, something he can easily fall back on when he gets nervous. I look around the room, taking in all the charts and the maps to avoid his eyes and all these thoughts dancing through my head. Even without seeing me for years, Julian can read me easily. He turns to Mare and whispers softly, “Perhaps you could give us a few minutes.” 

“Take your time.” Mare hops off the stool, and makes her way up the stairs to the top of the auditorium. She pauses for a half second though, and looking over her shoulder says, “But not too long, I need lunch and I promised Cal that I would meet him so he can complain about everything.” She continues up the stairs then. As soon as the door closes behind her, Julian turns to me and says, “You look the same as when I last saw you.” His voice breaks on the end, and he slowly sinks into the chair. He gives me a gentle smile though, trying to hide his pain like he always has. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat, and walk toward the board that is covered in his swirling script. 

He waits patiently for me to speak, but I grab the chalk and turn it over in my fingers to avoid having my hands at my side. 

“Cori,” he whispers softly, drawing my eyes. His lips are pulled into a tight line, and his expression is tired as he slowly turns in the stool to face me completely. I fidget with the chalk for another moment before whispering, “Not to be rude, but you’re so much older now.” 

He smiles, those lines near his mouth pinching as he does so. He folds his hands across his stomach and then says, “I happen to be only forty-seven for your information, which I would consider fairly young.” 

I grimace, but his smile keeps me from feeling too embarrassed. Setting the chalk down again, I reach up to massage my forehead. His smile falls as he sees this, and then whispers, “Which means you are now twenty-four years younger than me, instead of only two.” 

“I can do math Julian, I’m not that dumb.” I say carefully as I squeeze my hand into a fist. His face falls for a moment, and the anger that had been bubbling inside of me over the past two days, over missing everything, over losing everything, exploded out. Grabbing the chalk, I hurl at it him and cry, “How could you have let him do that?” 

He dodges the chalk by almost falling off the stool, and then says, “Who exactly are we talking about?”

“Both of them! Tibe and my son! He was never supposed to be a soldier! He could have died, Julian!” I cry as I advance on him and grab one of the books on the table. Swinging it, I manage to connect with his arm, which makes him yelp in surprise at the ferocity of my hit. He wrestles the book out of my hands before saying, “It wasn’t up to me! Cori, I practically left the royal house after Elara stepped in, and when Maven was born I wasn’t allowed anywhere near that boy, let alone Cal at times.” 

“You should have fought harder! You should have made sure that witch never touched my son! You should have made sure she burned for what she did!” I hissed as I tried to fish another book out of his bag to hit him with. He snatches it from my grip though, and placed them behind him before I could truly grab one. I result to my fists instead, trying to hit his chest and make him hurt the way I do. I want him to feel the bone aching agony in my heart. I’m smaller than him though, I’ve always been, and he easily wrangles me onto the stool he had been occupying before. 

His face is pale with blush, and he grips my wrists tightly so that I can’t swing anymore. His hands are shaking though, and his eyes are murderous. I’d never seen Julian so furious before in my life. His voice is like a whisper too when he says, “I tried, both Sara and I tried, Cori. Do you know what she did? She had them cut Sara’s tongue out for speaking about it. And she ordered ever blood healer in Norta to never help her.” 

My blood runs cold at his words, my arms slowly falling slack. He releases my wrists, letting my hands drop into my lap. 

“She refused my requests to tutor Cal, and she pushed me and Sara so far to the outskirts that we were hardly part of anything,” he turns with a sigh, shaking his head. “I tried with Tibe, I really did. I tried to make him keep your wishes in mind, but you know him and what he would do when he saw something he wanted. Cal was already starting to show promise with strategy at a young age, and strength, and Tibe saw a son that he thought he could mold.” 

My shoulders slowly hunch, as that ache returns to my chest. In the silence that follows, I try to fight back the numbness that is creeping into my thoughts. All hope is not lost, I’m here now. Cal isn’t a boy anymore, and he obviously survived the war, and everything that happened. At great cost, but my son had survived. The past was the past; I would have never had control over his actions anyway.

“I’m so tired,” I whisper to him softly, as I set my head in my hand. I had hoped that with my return, without Elara being here, the nightmares would stop. But they were continuing, and they were almost worse than before. 

My brother sets his hand on my shoulder, and squeezes it reassuringly. “They’re going to want to know everything. Rori and her ilk, they’ll want to know how it happened and why it happened.” 

“I don’t know anything though, I already told them! I just remember the bathroom, and then… then darkness. Next thing I know, I’m waking up, laying in the mud and looking up at some trees.” I shake my head quickly, and try to ignore the headache that is building at the base of my skull. Any time I tried to think about that night I got a splitting headache. It was worse in Rori’s office, because I was trying to think about what had happened after the blackness. All I could come up with though, was the fact that I had woken up in the middle of the storm. 

My brother grimaces, and I glare up at him for a moment. 

“You want to know too I’m sure,” I grumble as I push off the stool. He chuckles to himself, and rubbing at his neck says, “I apparently haven’t changed much.” 

Huffing, I glance him over my shoulder and murmur, “No, you haven’t.” (///////)

I could hear the discussion in the Barrow kitchen a few seconds before I was in the doorway. My son’s voice rising and falling over the sound of a kitchen sink reaches my ears first. Like Tibe, he doesn’t realize how loud he can be. Mare’s voice follows each of his pauses, and when I halt in the doorway, carrying my plate and the one I had grabbed on my way in, I can see them standing at the sink shoulder to shoulder. He passes her dishes that she dries, the two of them smirking at each other as they talk. 

“So you went on the run with them?” She teases, as she places a dish in the cabinet above her head. He grunts an affirmative, and then replies, “Yes, and I had to literally limp into the building and find a bathroom to collapse in and catch my breath. I’m twenty-five years old, and I felt like I was fifty.” She laughs outright at him, and then takes the next dish from him to dry. In the light of the setting sun, the two of them are framed by that light. Mare turns away for a second though, to toss her wet rag away. As she goes, he watches her. 

I freeze, recognizing that look. The way those amber eyes trace the lines of her shoulders, and catch on her profile. The way his lips quirk up just slightly at one corner. I knew that look, and it is both strange and painful at the same time to see it again. I had caught that look in mirrors when I saw Tibe over my shoulder. 

He drops another plate in the water and just as she turns around to look at him again, I clear my throat. They both flip around in surprise, Barrow blushing just slightly as she flips back around to dry a dish she’s already dried. 

“Sorry to add dirt to the pile,” I try to smile as I held up the plates to show them. Cal nods and crosses the room quickly to take it off my hands. His hands which I know should be warm, are burning hot. Probably from embarrassment, I realize. He wants to know how much I saw and heard, and what I think of it. 

“It’s nothing, dish duty is normally a lot worse,” he says as he turns away and drops those dishes in the water as well. Mare reaches in to take the other one, the two of them seeming to keep a magic foot of distance between them. I watch her for a moment though, taking in the tense muscles in their shoulders. A half second later, her mother calls her from the living room. She drops the rag with an exasperate sigh and then passes by me, making sure to duck her shoulder so that we don’t touch. I watch her go over my shoulder, and hear her calling back to her mother. 

“Everything okay?” Cal asks eventually, and I flip around in surprise before offering him a tight smile and saying, “I suppose I’m just tired.” 

“Mare mentioned you woke up with nightmare’s last night.” His words are carefully selected, but they cut just the same. I shouldn’t be surprised that she told him, but I still feel like a child. Shrugging, I take up Mare’s spot drying dishes. 

“They’re just night terrors, I dealt with them when I was… alive.” I shake my head, hating that the word seems so silly. He nods though, as if in understanding. He offers a plate and when I take it, he says, “I have nightmares about dad still, about what she made me do.” 

I tense in surprise, my blood running cold. Elara had apparently found a way to hurt me from beyond the grave, by going after my son. I glance at him hesitantly and whisper, “I’m sorry, for everything.” 

“You and Mare… honestly.” He murmurs as he takes the dish from me and opens another cabinet to put it away. I frown at his words, and he sighs before saying, “It’s probably Mare’s story to tell but… she has nightmare’s too, flashbacks. We all do. Hers have to do with Shade though.” 

“Shade?” 

“Her brother, he died during the assault that we led on Corros prison.” His words are a breath of cold air. It chills my bones to hear the word Corros. I had only been there once when Tibe was king. We had gone as part of the royal parade, a means of showing strength. I had hated every second we spent in that place. It had been like the cages in my nightmares, and after going there, it had taken their place.

“You both think choices other people make are you fault.” He sighs and shakes his head. Standing with my hand on my hip I spit, “Are you any better?” 

He starts, and I throw the towel on the counter before hissing, “You just told me you have nightmares about your father, and what Elara made you do.” “My situation is a little different,” His voice bites, and he narrows his eyes, “I killed him. Mare didn’t kill Shade, try as she might to prove that she did. And you did not start the downward spiral that led to the chaos.” 

I want to believe him, I really do. But it is my fault. If I had just had a little more backbone, and stuck it out in that dinner, I would have never met a prince with fiery eyes. He would never have fallen for me. Elara would have never felt slighted, and she would have been Queen. The monarchy would have still been around, even if it shouldn’t have been. And I would have died a lonely old woman on the Jacos estate, just like I should have. _Just like Jessamine_ , my mind hisses. 

Shaking my head and forcing the thought away, I murmur, “I don’t want to argue about this.” 

“It’s not arguing,” He points out, and turns to face me with his hands on his hips too. For looking an awful amount like Tibe, he has some of my mannerisms, and it’s almost startling. 

“Please Cal,” breaking under his gaze, I whisper his name, the taste of it odd on my tongue. The last time I had said it, he had been a baby, barely a year old. I still could remember the first time I’d said it, the first time I’d laid eyes on him. Three miscarriages, and he was here, alive and strong. Shattered inside though, and he had let me see some of the pieces by telling me about his nightmares. 

He frowns, but mercifully, drops the subject.


	6. Chapter 6

(/Coriane/)

“The raiders are going after the western farms again.” 

I glance up from the little bowl of oatmeal I was eating. Trying not to make it seem like I’m eavesdropping on the conversation happening in front of me. Mare had chosen to stay behind today in favor of training. Her friend, Farley, if I recalled, had arrived around nine with her daughter. Today was not a babysitting day though, today was a gossip day. 

“I heard they were going after the dams. If there is no power, we’re useless.” Mare replies with a frown. We hadn’t spoken for two weeks, not since the nightmare, and not since I had seen her and Cal interacting in the kitchen. I’d had numerous nightmares since then, but she had not come to wake me up again, and she apparently hadn’t talked to Cal about it. But then again, he was gone more times than he was around. If I did see him, he was asleep on the Barrow’s couch at midnight, too tired to walk back to his apartment two district quarters away.

I’d seen it numerous times, and had numerous dinners with him there. It was nice, but it was small. He seemed to fill it, his personality too large for a single bedroom. It was so barren too, but he said that was only temporary, Gisa had already promised to help him decorate. In fact, the last time I had been over there, a singe painting had been in the small entry hall, leaning against the wall. I hadn’t been able to see much of it, just a quick glance before I’d followed Cal into the kitchen. It had looked like an ocean, with a storm rolling in, and a single strike of purple lightning touching the horizon. 

We didn’t speak about my nightmares anymore though, and we seemed to dance around the subject of the past, or anything to do with my actual existence here. Mostly, he told me about what he was doing with the recruits, and I told him about my explorations into the Ascendant. Those were safe topics. I could tell he wanted to go beyond them, but I wasn’t ready. He respected that too, and so he waited. It felt like I was standing on one side of a canyon, looking at him on the other, with a rickety bridge between us. 

“Power or food, we certainly leave ourselves open to them.” Farley says with a huff, and turns her eyes briefly to her daughter who is out in the backyard chasing a small ball that she bounces against the stone wall.

“Clara is growing fast.” Mare observes to change the subject, and Farley’s smile could light the world as she nods in reply.

I turn my attention to the little girl completely and watch her throw the ball with all her might at the wall. It bounces over her head and she turns quickly only to flash out of existence. I stand in surprise, a strangled cry escaping me. She appears a second later though, halfway across the garden, having caught the ball before it could bounce again.

Farley glances at me in confusion, and Mare grimaces, almost like she’s just realized I was sitting there. I look between the two spots that Clara had disappeared and then reappeared in, my mouth opening and closing in surprise as I try to make words to explain my reaction. My only thought was that someone had taken her, that some swift had snuck into the garden and grabbed her.

“She’s like me,” Mare says carefully, the first words she’s said to me in weeks. I lower my eyes to her, and slowly let my hand fall away from my throat that I had grabbed at in surprise. I blink at her stupidly for a moment, until she raises her brow slowly.

“Right,” I breathe with a hesitant smile, “of course, my… my mistake.” I sit down slowly, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. A red with silver abilities, new bloods as I’ve heard them called a few times. Ardents, as Julian refers to them.

“Has she… always been able to… to do that?” I try to cover my awkwardness with useless conversation, waving my hand in weak gesture in Clara’s direction. Mare and Farley share a quick glance before Farley shrugs and says, “Only for about a year. Bedtime and bath time have become absolutely miserable since she’s learned to do it on command.”

I laugh softly when she smiles at her own joke, even Mare cracks a smile. The discomfort dispels for a moment. Sighing under my breath in relief, I turn to Mare and ask a little more boldly, “Were you that old when you could start making the lightning?”

“Forgotten gods no,” Mare says with a shake of her head before rising from the table to grab more coffee.

“Mare decided to be dramatic and fall into a force field. She wanted her entrance to be as dramatic as her.” Farley teases, her eyes glinting mischievously. Mare smirks over her shoulder and says, “You caught me. I planned the whole thing.”

She pours herself more coffee and pauses at the window to watch Clara throw the ball again, chasing after it at a sprint this time. I shift in my chair, and can’t help but feel like the two of them are having a private conversation that I would never be able to take part in.

“And how did you manage to fall into a force field?” I ask with a pathetic smile, trying to keep the laughter in my voice. I push my oatmeal away, forgetting it for a moment. Mare turns, as if she had forgotten the two of us were there, and in her eyes I can catch the fading remnants of some memory, or perhaps a future she was imagining. It’s probably a future. Mare is young, certainly older than I was when I had first been married. In fact, she’s older than the time when I was first pregnant. 

She wore a ring around her neck, I had seen it before when she had bent over to pick something up. It had fallen out from inside her shirt, the red stone catching the light and shining. She had stood up and tucked it back in gingerly though, gently, as if she were afraid to damage it, or touch it. I wondered if she had been engaged and they had left, or perhaps never come back. I was too afraid of hearing the latter to ask. She was so hardened by everything though; I wouldn’t be surprised if losing a lover as well as a brother had done that to her.

She shrugs, and smiles in response to my question still. I would know a forced smile when I saw it though. I had forced many of them in my time. Returning to the table she says, “I got a job in the palace,” her eyes trace a spot on the table as if she is returning to that time, “and I fell into the arena during Queenstrial. Evangeline Samos thought it would be a good idea to move the entire thing. To this day she still calls me elephant feet because I couldn’t get my footing to keep from falling out of one of the boxes.” 

My stomach drops, remembering that arena, knowing how high some of the boxes are above the ground. The force field is to keep people safe, I can’t imagine what a red girl falling towards it had thought. Had she thought of her brothers? Maybe her sister and her parents? Had she thought about the people she would never get to meet? The person she would never get to fall in love with someday? Or did she find relief in that death? It would have been quick. 

“It must have been terrifying.” 

“Honestly, my last thought was whether or not I would die without my eyebrows.” Mare says with a roll of her eyes, as if what she had faced was no more than a joke to tell over dinner. Farley outright laughs at that though, and Mare cracks another smile. I can’t find the amusement in the story though. 

Before I can ask how she got that job in the palace, a distant siren calls. Mare’s head snaps up, like a mother attuned to her child’s cry. Farley does the same, her shoulders straightening and tensing. She abandons her mug and goes for the back door, already shouting for Clara. 

“What is it?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly as Mare leaps from the table and goes to grab her jacket hanging on one of the pegs in the kitchen. I stand as well when she doesn’t answer me and ask louder, “What is happening?” 

She finally turns back to me just as Clara comes running into the house calling for Farley fearfully. Her mother bends down and scoops her into her arms, whispering soothing phrases to her. 

“Raider attack,” Mare says with narrowed eyes, “On the outskirts of the city.” 

She starts for the door then, at the same time that Mare’s mother comes tearing down the stairs. She had been folding laundry upstairs, but her face is sheet white as she takes Clara from Farley. 

Mare grabs her boots by the door with Farley who is trying to calm Clara from her position a few steps away. 

I watch her for a second and then ask, “And you have to go?” 

“All able bodied, trained members of Montfort military are required to go. I’m a citizen now, I have to go.” Mare says coolly. When she looks up at me, she is an entirely different woman from the one I had come to know over the past few weeks. It’s like a wall has come up behind her eyes, and she seems lager, taller, colder. I shiver at the transformation, and Mare’s mother whispers from behind me, “Be careful.” 

Mare nods, and then stands. She has one hand on the door when I act. Stepping forward I say, “I’ll go with you.” 

My words make Mare and Farley both freeze. They share a look before Mare turns to me and without a hint of mercy replies, “You haven’t trained, and I don’t know how useful your ability will be. Julian doesn’t even go.” 

I straighten my shoulders and try to stand my ground, but my voice wavers just slightly as I say, “Sara Skonos was my friend, I know basic field medical training. I can help. Take me with you.” 

She expels what sounds like an annoyed sigh through her nose, and I don’t blame her. I might be another liability, and if something happens to me, she will probably have to answer to Cal. Still it hurts something inside of me. I wish I was more useful, but I haven’t sung in… well if I was being technically twenty years. I wonder if I could even make the sounds come out. 

As if sensing my shaken faith, Farley glances at her and then at me and says carefully, “If she wants to go, you can’t stop her. She’ll probably just follow us.”

I could almost kiss Farley for the faith she has in my tenacity. I certainly would not have followed them, I would have probably crept upstairs to hide with Mare’s mother and Clara. The fact that she thinks I would follow though emboldens me. 

“I won’t slow you down, and I’ll stay out of the way unless I’m needed.” I say, the waver gone from my voice. Mare glances me over before closing her eyes and expelling another sigh. She nods and then opens the door. Outside in the street, I see people moving in different directions. A majority of them move slowly, maneuvering to the left, toward the residential districts. A few of them though move at a dead sprint in the opposite direction. My stomach coils in on itself. As I follow mare and Farley out into the controlled chaos. But underneath that fear that is starting to rise up like bile in my throat, is excitement and relief at the fact that I am finally going to be useful for something.

(//////)

It’s chaos when we get to our location. While the streets had been mostly under control, at the top of the mountain that we had to take a truck up to, there are so many people running around and shouting orders, that I almost want to go back down. I feel even more out of place here, but Mare and Farley cut an imposing sight and everyone quickly moves out of their way.

They make their way to edge of the cliff and I trail after them like a shadow, my worry oozing out of my pores. The ground shakes below us and I struggle to keep my footing.

“How in the hell did they get a hold of detonations?” Mare spits, and Farley shakes her head before saying, “There’s a reason Rori has more security on the trains these days.”

Mare spits a curse and then steps up to the edge of the mountain, but stays just far enough back that the trees cover her. A small group is huddled around a man throwing out orders left and right, and next to him, a young man with bright white hair listens intently.

“Go find Davidson, I’ll take her with me and electricons,” Mare says, and then starts in the direction of the white haired man. Farley peels away and I hurry to catch up to Mare who is making a path by elbowing her way through the crowd. 

The white haired man spots us a moment before we break the line of people and his lips quirk up when he spots Mare. Another detonation goes off and shakes the ground but Mare doesn’t wobble, and neither does he, making me feel like a new born deer next to them.

“We’ll need to find you stilts to walk on Mare.” He doesn’t even wait for her to completely reach him before he turns and makes his way for a truck where two other with colorful hair are waiting.

“Shove that where it belongs Tyton. What are our orders?”

Tyton, I memorize the name for later, in case I have to scream it. He’s someone who is obviously in charge, from the way he carries himself, and from the way Mare seems to drop a little bit of her authoritative act around him.

“Defend the ridge. They snuck up it, must have camped out there last night.” He delivers the information in bits, and then glances at me with a questioning brow. Mare glances at me and says, “Cal’s mother, she’s going to be with me.”

He nods, but doesn’t question her. I sigh in relief, and try not show how his lack of questioning eases my shaken state.

We arrive at the truck, and a girl with bright blue hair leans out of the driver’s window to say, “You should have driven up with us Mare, it would have taken you half the time to get here.”

“The last time I drove with you Ella, I saw my life ending multiple times.” Mare replies, but she still smirks. She’s comfortable here, and the ease she has with these people tells me she’s been with them for a long time. These must be the electricons. None of them are silvers, I catalogue that away for later.

“Cal’s already down there with the others, our job it to make his life easier. Not that you’ve ever been very good at that Mare.” Ella says with a smirk and opens the door. Mare glares at her and then gestures for me to get up into the cabin of the truck. “You’ll take Coriane. I’ll ride on the back with Tyton and Rafe.”

“Wait, Cal’s down-“ I break off as another detonation shakes the ground, this one far closer than before. People shout something near the ridge and my eyes widen in horror as I glance back at Mare. Ella glances between the two of us for a moment and speaks before Mare can cut her off, “Of course he is. He’s one of the best soldiers. They’ll send him into the thickest of the fight.”

My stomach plummets, and for a moment, I remember a hazy dream. A dream of Cal turning his back on me and walking into the smoke leading soldiers and never returning. I can feel the blood drain from my face at the thought.

“Cal is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.” Mare says, her words cold and biting. She doesn’t have time for me to grow roots through my feet. She points up into the cabin of the truck and continues, her words jarring me out of my trance, “either you move and promise to keep moving, or you stay here where I don’t have to drag your ass out of every dangerous situation.”

I should have stayed behind, what the hell had I been thinking? I shouldn’t have come. What possessed me to think I could do this? I go to shake my head, but the quiet voice in me, the one that had screamed at Elara the night I died, the one that had clawed at my chest from the inside when I thought I was being silenced reared its head again though. Go, it hisses. 

Swallowing around my tight throat, I walk around the truck in a haze and climb into the passenger side. Ella watches me carefully, far more kindly than Mare.

The door to the driver side slams and Ella whispers softly, “It’s been a while since she’s been in one of these skirmishes, that where all this is coming from. She’s just as worried and scared as the rest of us.” She glances in the side mirror, and gives a thumbs up out the window before starting the engine. When I don’t reply, she glances at me again. Sensing that her words probably didn’t mean anything to me, she adds quietly, “And she’s just as worried about Cal. She just doesn’t show it.”

(//////)

The ridge that the electricons are to defend is about a mile from the other one, and is higher up. I climb out with Ella, my earlier panic forgotten as I inhale the thin air and take in the sight before me. In the crisp noon day, the sky stretches blue forever, and the mountains seem to go just as far. While the electricons make their way to the edge, I stand and stare at the endless miles of rock and sky. It’s beautiful. We don’t have anything like this in Norta. A part of me wishes I had been bolder as a queen and traveled more, instead of staying holed up in the palace and my rooms, hiding from the world, and the court.

In my distraction I miss the formation of the first cloud. My attention is drawn to it when I spot the darkness out of the corner of my eye. I hesitantly make my way to the edge of the cliff, watching Mare and she scrunches up her face and reaches a hand up toward the sky. On her right Tyton does the same thing, although his expression is completely neutral.

Ella stands behind them, watching them with her partner, a green haired, wire thin young man. He glances at me, and gives me a goofy grin before saying, “You may want to stay a step back for the first round. Mare hasn’t been training so her aim will be off.”

“You’re lucky your electric proof Rafe.” Mare grunts, and I watch a bead of sweat roll down her neck as her hand quivers just slightly. The cloud grows though, and the air around us changes. My ears want to pop with the change in pressure, and I grimace in pain. A strong wind whips around us, making the trees around us sway wildly in all directions. A drop of icy water lands on the tip of my nose, and I glance up at the massive dark cloud above our heads. Another drop lands on my forehead and I watch a faint white flash in the cloud take shape before disappearing. A weak flash of purple follows a second later.

“Is that all you have in you Mare?” Ella teases, and steps up, cracking her knuckles. “If we wanted that, we would have brought one of the recruits out.”

Mare twists her lips in annoyance, and a bright flash of purple is immediately followed by a crack of thunder so loud it rattles my bones. Ella laughs at that and then says, “There she is, the little lightning girl returns to us.”

Above my head another flash of lightning, bright blue races across the sky and the cloud swallows up the blue sky, growing and becoming darker with each passing second. 

Trying to stay out of their way, I get as close to the edge of the cliff as I dare before looking over the edge at what is below. I can see the skirmish below us. Soldiers in rag tag uniforms screaming and fighting, and around them a much more organized ground funneling them into smaller groups.

“I spy with my little eye,” Ella says in a sing song voice, “A truck that is carrying raiders.”

A flash of blue so bright it burns my eyes flashes in front of me and a second later an explosion sounds. Rubbing at my eyes as they water, I squint and spot a truck on its side, the engine on fire, with people scattered around it in a circle. None of them get up. 

Shivering at the sight, I turn my attention back to Mare who eyes the chaos down below, and I wonder if she is looking for black hair just like I am. But her lips are draw in a tight line and a streak of purple lightning strikes the space where a group of raiders are. They scatter like debris, screaming to avoid the bolt. She doesn’t smile like Ella does, and I can see how her brows crease just slightly. I wonder if it’s because of what she’s doing, or if she’s upset that she missed.

Half an hour later, the battle still rages, but the electricons stop joking after ten minutes. Things get more serious the longer the battle continues. Mare tires before the others, but I can see in the set of her jaw that she refuses to bow out and leave them a man down. She’ll push herself to exhaustion before she does that. 

“They shouldn’t have this many men,” Mare reasons, her breathing labored as she throws another bolt down trying to defend our receding line. I had watched the group below us that had started retreating a few minutes ago. Tyton shakes his head and says, “There numbers have been growing for months. And they’re getting more and more organized. Something’s changed.”

A rustling in the bushes gets my attention. Frowning, I turn in that direction and squint. In the dark from the storm clouds and the down pour that the electricons created it’s hard to see completely.

The glint of something metal catches my attention, and I back up a step before opening my mouth to get their attention. The crack of a gun going off beats me though. Tyton howls in pain, and drops like a sack of flour. Ella cries out in horror, and chaos explodes on top of the ridge as people leap out of the shadows, guns and knives blazing. 

Rafe, Mare, and Ella turn their attention from the battle below to the one that has just started up here.

We’d been caught completely unawares. Something tells me this has never happened before, because the electricons fight on their back foot, simply falling in to protect Tyton who is lying on the ground clutching his side and bleeding red in a pool.

I back away in panic, unsure of where to go or what to do. Arms wrap around me from behind and I scream as I squirm and try to wiggle away from them. I’ve never been strong though, or trained in combat, so I mostly look like an awkward child trying to escape.

The man holding me laughs, and hisses in my ear, “What’s this? You’re not one of those freaks. What are you doing up here?”

With a scream I drive my elbow into his side, trying to aim for his kidney. My blow lands and he grunts, loosening his grip enough that I can stamp my heel on his foot. He yelps in pain and I break free, sprinting for the truck. I don’t know how much good it will do me though. 

I reach the door, and turn to see him sprinting for me. He wears a mask, but I can see his fury in his eyes.

Grabbing at the door, and pulling uselessly at it, I lose my footing in the mud and fall. I gasp in horror and flip around onto my back to watch him draw a knife. Holding up my hand and throwing everything I have into the one word I scream, “Stop!”

He freezes, and his face goes slack as he drops the knife. I could almost cry in relief, and sure enough tears run down my cheeks. Someone screams though and I look over to watch Ella slip in the mud on the edge of the cliff. She disappears over the edge and Rafe shouts her name in response. I break my eye contact with the man, and he wakes from the stupor I sang him into. 

“Bitch,” he snarls as he bends down to grab the knife from the mud. I leap for it first, and kick it away though. He laugh at that, and grabs at my ankle instead. I kick with my other foot, but he grabs it and starts to drag me toward the others. The mud slides underneath my shirt and coats my back as he does so. I scream and thrash as much as I can, but it’s useless. He’s so much stronger, and holds on with a laugh. 

Another gun shot sounds, and I watch Rafe go down clutching his shoulder. He rolls into a small ditch near the side to try and avoid any other shots. Mare stands along then before the group, hissing and spitting like a cat. A flash of purple lightning flashes across the sky behind her and she looks like death on swift wings as she begins throwing bolt after bolt at the soldiers that advance on her. 

Her legs shake though, and the blows become weaker and slower. The man grabs me and drags me to my feet just as the soldiers throw a dark, heavy net over Mare. She screams at that and tries to throw it off of her, but they yank at it, taking her completely off her feet. She screams and thrashes on the ground, until suddenly her screams become sobs and she simply quivers inside of the net. The lightning stops, and then it is just raining. 

The soldiers edge toward her and one of them whispers, “You think it worked?”

“It’s silent stone, of course it worked. It stopped her dead didn’t it?”

Another pipes up near me, “What should we do, should we kill her? The others are probably dead.” 

“We should bring her.” The man holding me spits, and the others turn to him. He presses the blade of the knife to my throat and hisses, “This one too.”

I grab at his arm and choke, “Please, I’m useless, I’m….”

“You’re a silver,” he spits at me and then presses the blade closer to my neck so that I cry out in pain, “you’re going to come with us.” 

The group all look to each other before nodding and pointing to the truck. A couple of them grab the net with Mare in it and start to drag her with them. The man holding me drags me too. I push off the ground and try to kick forward, screaming at the top of my lungs, hoping against everything that someone might hear me. 

He throws me into the back of the truck though, and they toss Mare into the back with me. She’s completely tangled in the net, and whimpering softly. Gone is the woman that had ordered me to move, to put my fear away for the time being. In her place is something horribly small. One of the men gets in the back with us and pulls his mask down. He’s not a man though. He couldn’t be older than fifteen, merely a boy pretending to be a man. His eyes take me in as I huddle in the corner close to Mare. A wave of silence washes over me when I touch the net, and I yank my hand back like it burned me. The feeling doesn’t completely fade, but I doubt I would be able to do anything with my ability if I tried. The explosion of it had left me exhausted. 

His lips curl up in a smile as he says, “That’s right, take a seat and stay right there.” 

I narrow my eyes at him, but keep my mouth shut. His cheeks flush white when he sees my reaction, and he looks away in embarrassment. The truck starts, and I watch as we slowly pull away from the ridge. As we turn the corner though, I see Tyton push himself up to his elbows, his eyes taking us in as we are stolen away.


	7. Chapter 7

(/Coriane/)

I don’t remember falling asleep, nor do I remember them stopping and switching out the person guarding us. My head bumps the back of the truck as we stop though and I snap awake, thinking everything must have been a dream that I’m going to wake up from and laugh at how silly the whole thing was. 

My heart beats erratically as I take in the darkness in the back of the truck. Mare is unnaturally still next to me. Braving the silent stone, I reach through the net to touch her shoulder. “Mare?” I whisper to her, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes are open though, and I can see the whites of them in the darkness. Whatever has happened to her though, she is not recovering from it. 

“Mare?” I whisper her name again, panic rising into my tone. Outside of the truck I can hear people approaching the back. She doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. The man in the back of the truck with us watches carefully. He scans the way Mare lies still as death, and how I frantically try to wake her. She’s the physical weak link, but I’m something far worse. 

“Please,” I choke to her when that thought passes through my head. I don’t know how much good it will do though. If she didn’t respond to me before, pleading with her won’t change anything. 

Four people with lanterns appear. In the weak light cast by one of them, I can see that two of them are huge men, and two of them are women. They look us over for a few minutes, and the silence stretches until I wasn’t to scream. One of the women huffs though and says, “I thought you said they were important?” 

“The one in the net is, you idiot. That one’s Mare Barrow.” 

“I don’t recall her being important.” 

“You know! Mare Barrow, The Little Lightning Girl, the girl that brought down the King of Norta.” He says it and spits to the side, as if the words are poison in his mouth. 

My stomach flips in surprise, and I tense before slowly drawing my hand away from Mare. The woman who had asked the initial question looks me over before stepping into the truck and holding the lantern up to my face. She has a thick scar that drags from her temple down to the middle of her cheek. I dont want to know how or where she got it. 

I shy away from her as she edges closer and sneers. “This one looks pathetic.” 

Something in me shrieks in protest, but I do the thing I’ve always been good at, and drop my eyes in shame. She snickers at my reaction and says, “Bring them out then. He’ll take a look at them and tell us what to do.” 

Scar face grabs my arm and drags me toward the end of the truck bed. I tug against her hold, and try to fumble over the right words to say to her. She laughs at my attempts and tosses me out on to the ground. I catch myself on my hands and knees, and scratch up my palms on dry grasses. She drops with catlike grace to land behind me, her hand latching onto the collar of my shirt. I glare at her over my shoulder and say, “You won’t get—”

“Don’t try to tell me that, we’ve got you hundreds of miles away from Ascendant. Your best bet sweet thing, is to keep your mouth shut.” She says with a rapier sharp grin before grabbing my arm as well and dragging me to my feet. I feel like a small animal being manhandled. 

A thud behind me make me turn around though. The two men sneer down at Mare in the net before smirking at each other and dragging her like a fresh catch behind them. 

“Don’t let them hurt her, she’s injured already, please.” I plead, but the woman simply huffs at my words and tugs me back around to get me moving again. I try to protest her hold but she grips my arm so tight it feels like the bone is going to break. Strongarm, I realize, when I see the veins sticking out in her forearm. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows in the heat, but she walks like it doesn’t bother her. My mouth feels like its had cotton shoved in it, and already i beads of sweat run down my back. 

In the darkness in front of me, I see a set of fires. As we approach them, the tops of massive tents come into focus. The shadows dance on the edge of them, and my stomach rebels as I remember the stories Jessabel used to tell us about slavers who took women that wandered the streets at night and turned them into meat or something worse. I bucked immediately at the thought. Scar sneers and spits, “Come on, you’re worse than a spooked deer.” 

She drags me into the middle of the encampment, and people peel out of their tents, looking at us in surprise. I spot dirty children clutching their mother’s legs, and young men trying to stand to the front and look tough. A village, this was a village of sorts. That eases my panic a bit. At least I’m not about to be pit on a spit and roasted for tomorrow’s lunch. 

My attention is immediately grabbed by what is in front of me. In the center of the camp is a massive gold and red tent. There are two guards stationed outside of the entrance and they immediately dive inside as we approach. 

Scar face pauses in front of it before kicking the back of my knees to bring me to a kneel. She grabs my wrists and binds them with a worn piece of leather before pulling the knot so tight my skin barks in protest. Pinching my face against the pain, I watch her disappear into the tent as well. 

Mare is dropped next to me and the men continue to stand behind her like she might try to get up. Her eyes are open though, and they finally seem to be in the present because she looks around sluggishly. 

“Mare,” I hiss her name, testing my bonds weakly. One of the men kicks my side, hissing, “Quiet!”

“Forin, let’s not kick our guests.” 

I turn my eyes in the direction of the new speaker. He steps out from inside the tent with Scar Face. He’s young, goodness he can’t be older than Cal. In the firelight, his copper hair and grey eyes cut an imposing figure. He’s dressed like the rest of the soldiers in what could be a ragged uniform. Even in that uniform though, I can tell he is some form of nobility. The way he stands, the way his eyes slowly drag over me scream court trained. Perhaps I can get through to him, make him understand that everything is a mistake and he should release us. 

He steps toward me, the fire light bringing his handsome features into focus. His eyes never leave mine as he asks, “Reece tells me that you’re a whisperer, is this true?”

I purse my lips, and swallow my answers, deciding that I want to be stubborn. Forin, one of the men that dragged Mare, hisses and grabs me by my hair so tightly it makes me shriek in pain. “He asked you a question!”

The new comer does not step to my defense again, instead he watches me with narrowed eyes. My own water as Forin digs his fingers deeper into my scalp until I whimper. “No! I’m a singer!”

“A singer?” He asks in disbelief, and I nod weakly, even though that causes more pain to explode across my scalp. I crane my neck to try and relieve some of the pressure on my head before choking, “Yes, I can… I can only make you do what I want if I sing and make eye contact.” 

“There aren’t many singers in the country Sire, the only one that I know of is the one in Ascendant. The one Kels told us about.” Scar face speaks from behind him, her massive arms crossing across her chest. He nods in response and that spark of familiar information makes me cry, “My brother! That’s my brother!”

Scar face laughs at my outburst, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dim light. “Please, your lies are pathetic.” 

“His name is Julian, he’s my brother!” I argue, only for my words to be cut off as Forin squeezes my hair again. 

“Enough of your lies, you little snake.” His grip tightens to the point that I release a strangled cry of pain. Next to me, Mare groans and the other guard launches himself on top of her, pressing her face into the ground. She can barely move, and they think she can fight them all off? How powerful do they think she is? 

The man holds his hand up in a silent order. Forin grumbles, his grip loosening until he drops my head. I let myself fall forward until my forehead is resting in the dirt, while I sob softly. I was as useless as a rock. Actually, I was more useless than that, you could at least throw a rock and hurt someone. I was more like a petal. Maybe not ever that, because petals could be poisonous. Elara had always been right about me. I was weak, pathetic, and useless. 

The dirt near me crunches and slowly someone crouches down. I shy away from their touch, wanting to just curl up in a ball and disappear into the darkness again. 

“Get her inside, take the other one to the shed and lock her in there. Keep the net on her. We can’t have any accidents.” 

“Sire!” Forin cries, but the silence that follows his exclamation tells me that there will be no argument. Strong hands grab my arms and yank me to my feet before dragging me forward toward the tent. I flip my head around and watch as two new soldiers grab Mare and drag her in the opposite direction. “Wait,” I choke, as I try to pull away and go after her. Where are they taking her? Where is the Shed? Are they going to torture her? 

I’m forced forward and through my tears, I can see the young man pulling the tent flap of the massive tend aside and disappearing inside ahead of us. I takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brighter interior, and I squint as I look over my surroundings. The interior seems to so out of place with where we are. Beautiful mahogany furniture decotates the space, with books and maps stacked on every available space. In the face corner, almost hidden behind everything is a small cot with a gas lamp on a crate. 

The guards leave me standing and take hesitant steps back on a silent order I assume comes from the young man standing before us. A second later though, he whispers, “leave us.” 

There is a soft hiss from Scar Face, but she follows the order nonetheless. I quiver as she passes by me, her grumbles clearly audible under her breath. The tent flap slides into place and we’re left in silence. The only thing I can hear is the soft drumming of fingers on a desk. I keep my eyes on my bound hands though, terrified of looking up. 

“What is your name?”

I tense and shake my head in response to the question. The drumming stops, and I hold my breath until it continues again. We remain in silence, until his voice fills it. He’s still carefully guarded, but softer when he speaks. “I will give you mine then. We’re cut from the same cloth and you deserve my name at least.” 

I bring my eyes up, just enough to look at him through my lashes. He’s standing behind a massive mahogany desk, littered with papers, books, and a few almost nonexistent candles that are lit. Julian would be disgusted at the candle wax that has leaked onto the covers of the faded volumes. 

He comes from behind the desk slowly, and I take a step back in fear, but he pauses at the front of the desk and leans against it. With a slight dip of his head, he says, “My name is Proteus Valazt, and I am the king of the Raiders.” 

That draws my eyes and a slight incline of my head. He nods with me and then says, “Yours now, it’s only fitting. I’m sure you’re not versed in the court etiquette—“

“My name is Coriane Jacos, and I …” I trail off, hesitant to say my title, wondering if it would make things worse for me if I told him. He raises a brow expectantly, and I drop my eyes and head again. “It doesn’t matter what I was.” 

He shrugs, as if the information truly doesn’t matter. He turns to one of the candles behind him and says, “Do you understand that you are our hostage?”

“I understand that in war there are certain rules to hostages. You are not harm them for one.” 

He chuckles darkly and raises his eyes to me with a smile that the shadows play in. “We’re not at war with Montfort. They are at war with us.” 

Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I watch the rapid, mercurial change to his features. I’ve told lies, I know what they look like on people’s faces. I’d schooled my face to hide the unhappiness underneath my skin for years. I know all the tells. If he realized that he’s given me knowledge about himself, he doesn’t show it, instead he gracefully makes his way back behind the desk and sinks into the chair. He watches me carefully until I say softly, “You don’t believe that.” 

His expression changes immediately from confident, to surprised, to composed. He’s young and hasn’t completely learned how to control those changes in his expression. I blink at him and he leans back in his chair, and brings his fist up to support his chin. It takes a moment for him to realized that I am more than just another silver, I have been in a court somewhere, and I know the games, at least some of them. 

“Who are you?” He asks carefully again. I shake my head and drop my eyes. 

“Forgive me, I’ve overstepped,” I try to back pedal, my fear that he’ll figure out the truth coming through. He narrows his eyes and says, “You’ve served in a court, I want to know which one.” 

There was no harm in leaving him with a little information, not enough to gain the truth though. “I lived in the Nortian court for a while.” I give the piece willingly, and his eyes narrow even further. 

“My father helped a princess from the Lakelander court a few years ago. She came bringing words of peace, and a promise that the King of Norta was going to help us conquer Montfort. Here we are years later though, missing a king, and lacking support.” 

“I’m not that support.” I murmur, and he laughs with a shake of his head at my response. 

“I don’t need to see to know that.” 

He rises from his chair, settling into his new position in the conversation. I move away from him as he walks passed me and digs through the drawers for something behind me. When he returns, it’s with a knife. I pull back in horror, but he grabs my wrists and holds me in place. He’s considerably taller than me, and has no problem manhandling me. 

“No, wait, please—“ I cry, closing my eyes and tensing until I feel the metal between my wrists and hear the near silent snip of the knife cutting through leather. I crack open my eyes and watch him slowly saw at the bonds on my wrists. He works in silence, the callouses on his fingers rubbing against my skin as he does so. 

The leather falls away and I pull my wrists to my chest, rubbing at them softly, trying to sooth the skin. He slips the knife into the holster on his belt, and watches me carefully back away into a corner of the tent, trying to put distance between us. He sits on the edge of the desk again in response, staring at me before saying, “If we succeeded in our effort to over throw Montfort, I would need to know how to function on the political stage. So, my father made me memorize all the kings and queens growing up. There was a singer queen in Norta.” 

My stomach plummets to my knees and I swallow past the sandpaper feeling in my throat. I can’t speak though. Not as he crosses his arms comfortably and says, “Coriane Jacos, the Singer Queen, that’s what they called her. The rumor was that she whispered honey in the prince’s ear and he married her within the week.”

I want to argue in my defense, but I simply press deeper into the shadows, trying to hide. He won’t let me though, his words light fireworks, igniting my past and showing exactly who I am. 

“She gave birth to a son, Tiberias Calore the Seventh. She died a year later, and a Whisper Queen took the throne in her place.” 

“Please—“

“So who are you Coriane Jacos? A queen, a singer, or a corpse?”

My skin crawls at the last word and I whisper, “Nothing, I am nothing.” 

“No one is nothing,” he reasons, and looks down at his boots, his lip curling for a moment in distaste. I wish more than anything that I were a Haven, so that I could blend into the shadows and disappear forever. 

“You’re one of the Living Dead, aren’t you?” He asks the next part softly. My reaction brings a smile to his features, and he says, “Yes, we have them too. They’re growing in number, rising as fast as they die. In fact… my scouts were reporting a change in the weather as you were being brought here. The men I lost in the battle might just walk into this camp tomorrow morning.” 

I wheeze for breath, remembering Mare’s words from earlier. They shouldn’t have this many men, their numbers were too great. 

“Do you know why it’s happening?” I whisper breathlessly, and his eyes widen in surprise, before he shakes his head infinitesimally. 

“Do you?”

I shake my head in reply, stepping out of the corner just slightly. His lips draw into a tight line, as he replies, “It’s not stopping anytime soon though.” 

I hesitant to take another step forward, drawn in by the conversation, and say, “Montfort might know something. The Premier… she might know something.” 

He sneers at the mention of Rori, but his next comment is cut off by Scar face returning, almost out of breath. She looks between the two of us, and then spots the leather strap on the floor. Her eyes narrow a fraction of an inch before she looks up and says, “It’s Harv, he’s almost left us.” 

Proteus is up in seconds and starts for the exit to the tent. He freezes before turning to look at me, as if he just remembered I was there. I try to press myself back into the shadows, but I have a feeling I will never be able to hide from him. “Grab her, Doria. She cant stay here.” 

Doria crosses the space to me, and I try to put up a fight, but she wrestles me into movement. I don’t dare drag my feet, not now that Proteus has cut my bonds. That was a quiet blessing, and I want to think that it’s a promise of some sort. I’m not sure of what yet though. 

I’m dragged through the camp, which seems to have resumed some resemblance of nighttime activity. The children run around the camp fires, shouting and making up games as they go. Elders hush them, and other younger members chatter. But they all bow their heads when Proteus walks by. A hush seems to follow him too. I remember that hush, it makes my skin crawl now, just like it used to when I walked next to Tibe through the crowds. 

He pushes a tent flap aside, which has a massive swath of red paint across the front of it. Doria pushes me inside, and I struggle against her grip, and then against the bile that rises in my throat at the stench. I gag, and choke for a second, while my eyes adjust to the limited light. Next to my feet a woman groans, her body covered in white boils that ooze. I back up into Doria’s chest, trying to put distance between myself and the woman on the ground. Another one to my right groans though, a child from the looks of it, who face is covered in so many of the boils that it doesn’t even look human anymore. 

Doria pushes me to the back, and the further we go, the worse it gets. There are no sounds back here, the people here are the ones closest to death. Here are the people praying for it to end. 

Proteus pauses above a young man and slowly drops to his knees, his facade cracking as he does so. I can barely hear the wheeze of the man’s breaths. His eyelids are swollen shut with the boils, and his body shakes with every exhale. Proteus reaches a hand out only for a nurse to hurry over and whisper, “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but you can’t--”

His hand hovers over the man’s skin for a moment and he whispers, “Harv, can you hear me?” 

The man doesn’t move, and the nurse bends down to whisper something in Proteus’s ear, her voice gentle. She’s not a healer though, or else the people in here would not be this sick. Surely they have a healer though?

One of the boils pops when Harv opens his mouth and a yellow pus oozes out. I gag and turn to rush from the tent. Doria lets me go, her fingers trailing on my arm. I barely make it out of the tent before I’m sick. A few people look up from nearby, and pull their children away. I lean against one of the poles, trying to catch my breath. I’d never seen anything like that. Not even in the worst of the red villages. Then again, I’d never gone that deep into them. Mare might know more, she said she grew up in the Stilts. It was the poorest, I knew that much. 

A while after I finish vomiting, Doria and Proteus emerge from the tent. I look up, and Proteus glances down at me in surprise, as if he was shocked I was even still standing there. Then his eyes harden and he orders, “Take her to one of the tents, have them burn her clothes, and wash her. I won’t let one of my hostages die.”

Doria nods and grabs my arm before dragging me away and toward another one of the tents at the edge of the encampment. A few women sitting outside of it stroking a small fire look up when she approaches with me. They rise as one, and look me over before pulling the tent flap aside. I can’t even bring myself to protest as they drag me inside.

(////)

Hours later, after I’ve been scrubbed raw and doused in oils and soaps until I smell like a perfume parlor, the tent flap shifts. The ladies brushing my hair pull back in surprise and bow their heads deeply. I glance up in the shockingly clean mirror to see Proteus standing behind me. 

“Out, all of you.” He orders, but he almost doesn’t need to. The minute the first word leaves his mouth, they are rushing to leave, whispering like birds as they flee. I straighten my shoulders as he approaches me from behind, internally I tremble. I have no idea what his ability is. He’s too lean to be a strong am, but that wouldn’t stop him from being anything else. Tightening my hands into fists on the thin fabric of the robe they gave me, I demand, “What was that?”

He sinks into one of the chairs in this tent, his eyes closing almost instantly. “We don’t have a name for it.” 

Information, no bonds, and he sits in my presence like this? I truly am next to nothing in where threats are concerned. I didn’t feel like a hostage though. What was his end game? 

“Where are your healers?”

“Died first.” He exhales before tilting his head down and opening his eyes again. My mouth goes dry at the words. I must pale considerably, because when he continues, it’s softly, “It’s not airborne, that’s all we know. It’s spread through contact. But we can never be too careful.” That explains the loss of the healers. They would have had to touch the people they were healing. 

He looks bone tired in that position, and so very young. I remember Cal telling me that he was king for a day, and that it had been miserable. I wonder if this is what he had looked like during that day. 

“What are you going to do with me and Mare?” 

His lips twist in distaste. “I don’t know.”

“What would you trade us for?” I ask softly as I turn on the stool to face him. His eyes glint before he smiles ruefully and says, “An end to Montfort. They forced my people out, sent us into these hideous plains to try and eke out a living. All because we refused to bow to their will.” 

“Their will is good. The people are free, there is no hatred and…”

“You didn’t look hard enough. There is hatred. It’s there, but it’s rooted deeply and hidden carefully.” 

My lips draw into a tight line. It’s a poor excuse, and a poor argument. He probably has never even seen Montfort. If his father, and his father before him had been forced out. His hatred is breed in him. He probably doesn’t even truly believe in fighting this little campaign. “They could help you,” I whisper, “they could send healers… people to help.” 

“Their healers would die just like ours did.” 

“Not the ones like Mare… the Ardents. They’re stronger than silvers.” 

He raises a brow at my words as I stand slowly and take a hesitant step toward him. “Trade us for healers, for medicine, and food, and water. Trade us to save your people, not chasing an ideal.” I have no idea if this will work, if he will listen to me. I’ve seen a glimmer of the truth beneath his façade though. He does not want this lofty goal that he claims to serve. He wants something else. I don’t need to be a whisper to see that. 

He raises a brow at me, his expression searching for ground before he says softly, “I can see why your people loved you Coriane Jacos.” 

I reel in surprise. My people had never loved me. They had feared me, and they had feared my ability. Even then, they never saw me. I had been Queen, but I had been a shadow. I barely made appearances. I wish I had though. I wish I had been stronger. That I could have found it in myself to be happy. Maybe I could have been there for Cal, maybe Elara would have never dug her claws into Tibe. I could have had strength and power. I just wasn’t strong enough to pretend. 

I crouch down slowly and reach for his hand. He starts when I take it gently and whisper, “You have the chance to save your people. Trade us for what you need to save them.” 

For a moment, I think he actually contemplates my words. His lips draw into a tight line a heartbeat later though, while his brows draw together. Yanking his hand from mine and rising from the chair, he growls, “You couldn’t possibly understand what has happened. My father lost his life fighting for our people to live once more. I will not be the one to let him die in vain.” 

He storms out of the tent, leaving me dumbfound. Rising quickly from the dirt though, I rush for the entrance after him. When I reach it, Doria steps inside. She catches me, and pushing me backwards so that I have to catch myself on the vanity. 

“Running away little song bird?”

I have no response. She chuckles at my silence, and takes Proteus’ place in the chair. Pulling out a knife to pick at her nails and cuticles, she says, “Proteus is too kind to you just because you’re silver. He should lock you up in that shed with the Red devil.” 

The mention of Mare brings my head around so I can glare at her. “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

Smirking at my words, Doria looks up from her nails to say, “Nothing she didn’t deserve.” 

My blood runs cold as I try to advance on her, stuttering over my threats. Before I can truly reach her though, she leaps to her feet and grabs my wrists. I yelp as she squeezes tight enough that my bones feel like they will shatter. She practically presses her nose to mine as she hisses, “Try to bewitch my king with your little songs, and I will find a hole in these plains and bury you so deep you won’t be able to dig yourself out when you return.” 

She throws me backwards onto the mess of blankets that make up the bed. I scramble to right myself, and watch as she sinks back into the chair. She goes back to picking at her nails, and even though her eyes aren’t on me, I know that she is aware of my every move. If she stays here tonight, I doubt I’ll get any sleep, which leaves me with plenty of time to start planning an escape. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this took so long to get out. It was super hard to find time to write this lately. Also< I was having a hard time connecting plot points. I think I finally got this set up though. It's a little shorter than all the previous chapters, but it gets the important work done. The kudos on this fic have been so exciting!!! Any comments are welcome and appreciated though!!!

(/Coriane/)

It’s surprisingly cold when the sun begins to rise. Doria snores softly in her chair, while I sit huddled in my mass of blankets. For two nights I’ve sat like this, watching my jailor nod off in the early morning. If I wanted to escape, that would be the time to do it. To combat the cold I could take a blanket, and I’d slowly been stashing away little bits of food that was brought to me. I had enough for maybe two days if I rationed it. I can’t leave without Mare though. At least, I feel like I shouldn’t leave without her. Would we even make it out of the hundreds of miles of plains to return to Ascendant? I don’t even know which direction the city is in, let alone how we’ll climb a mountain to get to it. And if she’s in the same state I remembered, I would have to carry her. I know for a fact that I’m not strong enough to do that. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there though. 

Doria snorts and then shakes awake, drawing me out of my thoughts. Her bleary eyes blink into focus as she searches the tent wildly for me. When she finally sees me, almost hiding underneath my pile of blankets, she rubs at her eye with her palm. “Need coffee.” She grumbles before rising from the chair. I watch her pull her hair into a messy tie before asking, “Can I have some?”

Her eyes narrow until she says, “Get up.” 

I push the blankets off of me and stand. She looks me over, and her lips curl as she takes in the same robe I’ve worn for three days now. Tapping her point finger to her thumb, she says, “Stay here.” She pushes the flap aside, only to pause and look over her shoulder once more. “Try to leave, and you won’t make it passed the third row of tents.” 

“Why would I try and run through hundreds of miles of plains dressed like this?” I grumble as I sit on the vanity stool. Doria’s brow raises at my tone, only for her lips to curl up in a smirk as she leaves the tent. 

Outside of the tent, the sounds of the early risers preparing for the day begin. Guards grumble as they switch shifts, alerting each other to potential obstacles. I strain my ears, hoping to catch a hint of Mare’s location. No one discusses her though. Squeezing the loose fabric of my robe in my fists, I try to wait patiently. I doubt Doria will bring me anything back, but I can hope. Coffee does sound nice, regardless of where I’m getting it from. 

The tent flap opens, startling me, and Doria enters before stepping aside to reveal Proteus. Raising my chin as he lets the flap close behind him, I say, “You are not coffee.” 

He chuckles, completely in control of his expression now. He looks me over before saying, “They’re scouring the mountain for you and Barrow. I have half a mind to leave two animal carcasses for them to find.” 

My blood runs cold, imagining what that could do. Blood would run down the mountain in waterfalls if he does that. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I whisper, “Don’t. You’ll have to send more men and women to die if you do that.” 

His expression hardens, and he closes the space between us to say, “You don’t know the first thing about what my people would do for their goal.”  


“Show me, let me try to help you. My son—"

“Your son is a middle rung on a ladder. He forfeited his right to sway anyone’s decision when he abdicated.” Proteus waves my words away with his hand. “I can get more out of killing you and Barrow than I can from trading you.” 

My stomach rolls, and I spot Doria finger the knife on her belt behind him. My fingers twitch in my lap and I breathe, “Please. You can achieve more than you think through negotiations.” I would sing if I could, but Proteus avoids my eyes contact expertly. I should have never told him how to prevent me from singing. Beating myself over that mistake won’t help me now though. Besides, if I sing him into a stupor, I’ll have to figure out some other way to handle Doria. I can’t sing to them both. 

He keeps his eyes on the floor as he says, “There is no negotiating with Montfort.” 

“They’ve been in negotiations with the Lakelands for years now… with Norta, with Piedmont. They can be negotiated with!” I shout as I rise to my feet. Doria takes a step forward and I glare at her, and the song comes before I even mean to release it. “Leave.” 

She freezes, her expression going slack as her eyes glaze over. Raising my chin, I sing to her again. “Leave us, he can handle—“

Proteus’s hand closes over my mouth, while his arm wraps around my middle. His fist presses into my diaphragm until the air leaves my body is a pathetic wheeze. Doria stumbles backwards, reaching up to grab her temple as Proteus throws me into the corner of the tent. My head hits the ground so hard my teeth rattle. I try to rise to my hands a knees in a daze, certain that this is now the only chance I will have to escape. 

A wave of water hits me though, and I choke as it surrounds my head in a cocoon. I reach up with desperate hands, and try to claw at it. It simply rushes past my fingers though. Through the swirling froth, I can make out Proteus, who sweeps his hand in small circles, controlling the orb of water. 

He’s a nymph. 

My vision begins to tunnel as I drop my hands. My lungs burn for air, and through the wisps of my hair ripped from their braid by the force of the water, I can see Doria urging Proteus on. Her eyes are murderous and I don’t need to guess why. I made her weak for a moment, and if Proteus doesn’t finish me here, she will do it. 

I open my mouth when I can’t take it anymore. Water rushes in and I fall forward, my vision going dark. The cocoon collapses and I swallow gulps of air, coughing on the remnants of the water as I do so. Doria’s muffled cries of surprise and fury echo on the edge of my vision. When I crane my neck from the ground, I spot Proteus leaving the tent, his expression pale and his hands shaking. Doria chases after him, leaving me alone in a puddle of mud. 

(///)

The blankets do little to warm me after my near brush with death. But Doria and Proteus do not come back. I’m sure they left a new guard outside my tent. I’m willing to risk it though. Scrambling to gather my food in a little makeshift bag I made from the blankets, I try to make a plan. I was never a strategist, but Tibe used to try to tell me about his battle plans when we were first married. I try to channel him in this moment, thinking about what he would think about. 

I edge toward the tent flap and curling a finger around it, I lift it just enough to look out. There are no guards, only a few children playing with a ball outside. They giggle and shout as they chase after it, kicking up dirt as they do so. 

My heart pounds in my chest and I step out into the sunlight. Already I can feel my hair drying under the burning sun. I waste no time scurrying past the children and toward the center of camp. Maybe that will surprise them. After all, who would be dumb enough to escape through the center of camp? I hope that I’m thinking this through correctly. I doubt it, but if this is my one shot at escaping, so be it. 

My next step is to find Mare. The fact that no one has tried to stop me makes me bold, and I pause for longer periods of time to try and locate the Shed where they took her. 

I’m listening in on two women washing sheets when a cold hand grabs my arm from behind. 

“You do have a death wish.” 

I try to throw a punch, but Proteus catches it easily. Spinning me so my back is to his chest, he pins my arms to my sides and says, “But you do have the makings of a decent spy.” 

“Let me go!” I spit at him, trying to stamp my heel on his foot. He simply turns it out to side, avoiding easily. I throw my head back to catch his nose in response, but he tilts his head to the side, and ends up with his nose buried in my neck. I tense at the feeling as he breathes against my skin. 

“Not a chance. You and I have things to discuss.” 

He drags me out of the camp then, passed the tents until we’re standing under the shade of a dying tree. He finally releases me so that I can spin away. Panting for breath, I stalk around him in a circle, trying to look imposing. He raises a brow at my posturing and then chuckles at it. 

That makes me pause, and choke, “are you laughing at me?” 

“You’re worse than a child. Did no one teach you how to fight?” He laughs when my face falls slack, and steps forward to grab my wrist again. Pressing his thumb into the tiny bones of my wrist he drags me close to him so he can whisper to me. “You’re going to help me end this war with Montfort. Whether you like it or not.” 

I struggle against his hold, fury boiling in my stomach. It’s iced over by fear though when he says, “Do as I say, or I’ll find a nice hole to bury Mare Barrow in.” 

“Why not bury me and use her?” I spit. His brows draw together then, and his eyes look me over for a moment. 

“The Premier of Montfort wants all the Living Dead she can get her hands on. Barrow may be important to a number of people, but she’s not important to that snake of a woman. You are.” 

I strain against his hold, desperate to put some distance between the two of us. I had underestimated how handsome he was the first time I saw him. My traitorous eyes want to observe him, compare him to other men I remember. It doesn’t help that he smells like lavender and something else, something earthy and clean. 

“Where is she?” I manage to get out when I stop pulling against him. He drops my wrist and I stumble backwards and land on my back in the dirt.  
He stands over me, blocking the sun for the most part. I glare until he huffs. 

“Will you stop struggling if I take you to her?”

I squint, wondering if I should even trust him. He did cut my bonds, and instead of killing me like Doria obviously wanted him to, he dragged me out here. I definitely don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, not that that would be very far. But do I have any other choice? 

“Show me her.” 

(/////)

The shed truly is a shed. It’s made of a few beaten up pieces of tin, and stands alone in a field. It’s a lonely, horrible place. And Mare is locked up inside. The heat is enough out here to make me sweat walking the few steps from the transport. I can’t imagine the temperatures inside that metal box.

The guards standing outside it, straighten from their slumped positions as Proteus approaches. He waves away their respectful salutes. They share worried glances before one of them reports, “she’s been quiet all day. Not a peep from her.” 

“Good.” He says before steps up to the lock. The guard closest to the door waves a hand over it. It clicks and falls open with a rusted creak that I can feel in my bones. I wouldn’t have been able to get her out if even if I had escaped from the village. I didn’t have the strength to deal with the guards, and I would have needed a magnetron to open the door. I would have done all the work to get here, just to hit a road block at the finish line. 

As the door swings open, a wave of sweltering air washes over my face. It’s hot enough in there to cook an egg in the dirt. Ignoring it, I hurry past Proteus to do a quick sweep of the room. Are they giving her water? Has she already died of heat exhaustion? It's shadowy in here, but I can feel the heat pressing in on me from all sides. I imagine when the door closes it's very similar to suffocating. 

Mare’s huddled form in the corner draws me like a beacon. I drop to her side, cringing at the silent stone net before throwing it off. Proteus doesn’t bother to stop me as I roll Mare onto her back and whisper to her. “Mare? Mare are you awake?” She doesn't respond, and my heart beats faster in response. "Wake up Mare, show me you're alive." 

Her skin is flushed like she has a horrible sun burn, and she’s soaked in sweat. A low groan escapes her, and I glare at Proteus over my shoulder even though relief washes over me. “Get her some water.” 

He shrugs at my demand. “Promise to help me end Montfort.” 

“Get her some water.” I grind the words out through my teeth. I’ve never been so furious in my life. Even in Norta we had never treated political prisoners like this. This was barbaric and inhuman. “Get her water and cool towel.” 

Proteus doesn’t move. It’s a stalemate then. Hissing under my breath, I turn back to Mare. Gently pulling her hair back from her face, I start to tame it into a ponytail of sorts to get it off her neck. “It’s alright,” I coo to her as she groans again. Her skin boils under my hands. Not good. I know a dangerous fever when I see it. 

My robe is much thinner than the heavy duty clothes she is still wearing. I make up my mind quickly. Stripping her of her shirt I wring it out as best I can. Even though my entire body recoils at what I’m doing, I carefully exchange it for the top of my robe. The shirt immediately sticks to my skin, and I want to be sick.

I swallow the bile, before going for her pants. We’re roughly the same size, but I’ll need a belt to keep the pants on. “Relax,” I whisper to her as I put myself between her and Proteus, trying to give her a sense of privacy. She probably couldn’t care less about it right now, but I won’t let that happen. Underneath my hands her skin feels slick like butter. I can barely get her clothes off. They stick to her like a second skin. She was in here for days. How is she not dead yet? I can't imagine being put through this. 

Once I’m wearing her clothes, and I’ve adjusted enough to the feeling of them on my skin, I slide my robe on her. “Everything’s going to be okay.” My words a pathetic and they probably dont come close to comforting. Does she know that I might have to leave her in here again? 

She groans again, and grabs my wrist in a grip that is so weak my stomach flutters. I shush her softly before looking at Proteus again. “Get her water and I’ll do what you need.” 

“Swear your loyalty to my cause.” 

“Are you really going to split hairs right now? She’s dying.” 

He shrugs. “It’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. She’s killed more of mine than her life could repay a hundred times over.” 

“ _Get her water now_.” I sing it this time. His eyes glaze over, and he snaps to attention to complete the order. But the song wears off quickly. I’m too close to the silent stone, and its effects are washing over me as they radiate out. 

He stumbles back and grabs at his temple. With a glower in my direction, he says, “Stop doing that.”

“ _Get her water._ ” I sing it again, determined to push beyond the nauseating effects of the silent stone. He turns his eyes away from me though and my words are just a pretty melody that bounces off him. The guards arrive at the entrance after hearing the commotion I'm causing. 

I throw myself to my feet and rush him, repeating the song over and over again. He catches me and pins me to the wall by my throat, making the tin rattle. I wheeze and claw at his wrist in response. I feel like a feral cat that has been caught. I'll gouge his eyes out if have to if it means I can get Mare out of this place. 

Grimacing at the headache I’ve probably given him by trying to hammer my will home over and over again, he catches my wrist with his other hand. “I’ll take her back to the camp if you swear your loyalty to me, right here, right now. Does that appease you?” He pants in my face. I can’t get a breath of air passed his fingers to reply with words. Can I agree to this? If I do, will I be betraying the people who took me in initially?

But Mare is going to die in this horrid place if I leave her here. I won’t put her blood on my hands. 

Nodding, I crane my neck to gasp for air. “Get her out.” 

He drops me to the floor and turns to the guards with an order to bring Mare to the transport. They blanch at him, and try to argue but his next words are sharp and biting. They leap to action, rushing for Mare who has fallen silent again. 

On the ground, I massage my throat and try to get air to my aching lungs. I watch them pick Mare up though. Her eyes, which are finally open, fall to me. I can’t even muster a smile for her, or another reassuring word. I have a horrible feeling I’ve just tied myself to a group that will use me as a shield against the people I actually trust. Have I doomed her and me? Probably. But she's alive, and she's out of here. Maybe we can come up with a plan together now. Relief washes over me as they carry her out into the sunlight. Proteus looks down at me with a condescending eye as I glower up at him. 

"There may be a soldier in you yet." He breathes before grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet. I have no idea what he's talking about, but I'm exhausted from using my ability so much in such a short time and I willingly let him drag me out to the transport too.


End file.
